


My Demons

by FairytaleTalia



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Demon Dan - Freeform, Demons, Fantasy, Friendzone, M/M, Phan AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 11:56:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12864006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairytaleTalia/pseuds/FairytaleTalia
Summary: Dan, having been a demon for years, is slowly losing all hope of ever becoming human again. That is, until he suddenly bumps into Phil Lester, who, despite their awkward first encounter, seems to have taken a liking to Dan. Eventually they become friends, but Dan needs more.





	My Demons

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to my incredible beta @amazingaida (tumblr), who was patient and so so helpful. I can’t imagine what I would have done without her! She truly made the fic what it is now.
> 
> Big thanks also to my artist, @ash-the-shadowhunter (tumblr), and my first beta, who then sadly was too busy but still helped me out a lot, especially in the beginning of the writing process, @maxisafanboi (tumblr)!
> 
> Extra thanks to my friend @ohwellseemslikeimherenow (tumblr), who helped me discuss plot issues and motivated me to keep going.

MY DEMONS

 

Dan is running through the rain, searching for the canopy of a shop or some other hideaway to protect himself from the cold water that has surely by now soaked all his clothes and, if he is really unlucky, the insides of his backpack. Being the smartass that he is, he thought the weatherman had to be blind to not see the bright sun outside in the morning, and therefore decided to only wear a light autumn jacket. What a fool he has been.

When he finally finds a little dry spot near the entrance of a small shop he lets himself fall against the glass window, not caring if he is pressing his butt into it and giving the people inside a good look at his behind. They can all go fuck themselves. He moves his hand up to his hair and groans in annoyance when he feels it curl around his fingers. While he tries to flatten out the curly mess on his head he fumbles for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket with his other hand and pulls out the last one he has. The cold makes his hands tremble and he has difficulties lighting it with his sadly nearly empty lighter. After a solid minute he has finally managed to do so, but before he can enjoy the first drag or even feel the smoke fill his lungs an angry man comes stomping out of the shop.

“Oi, punk! Get off my window! I have people complaining to me about the dodgy guy outside my shop,” he yells at Dan who, not even the slightest bit impressed by the elderly man, shrugs and raises the cigarette to his lips once more. Within two seconds the man rips it out of Dan’s still cold fingers, throws it to the ground, and crushes it beneath his right foot. Dan is so taken by surprise that he doesn’t even react at first.

Only when he sees his last precious cigarette, or rather what is left of it, on the ground, not even having taken two drags of it, he starts getting angry. And oh, it is dangerous to get angry, but Dan doesn’t care one bit about the possible consequences at that moment. Not even when he takes the man by his collar, smashes him against the window, and lands a good punch right in the middle of the wrinkly face. A pitiful whine leaves the man and Dan can feel his eyes glow menacingly as some glass shards trickle down on them. He hadn’t even meant to ruin the window or break the man’s nose.

Dan shoots back and lets go of the man who stumbles backwards and falls through the now broken window into the shop. In the blink of an eye Dan is gone, leaving the scared and confused bystanders to look after the man. He races through the streets, cursing every traffic light that makes him either wait or change the route when he has to wait too long. He regrets not having a hood on his jacket under which he could hide and that would create some anonymity. By now it doesn’t matter anymore if he is getting even wetter, he just needs to get home without being recognized.

He stumbles down the slippery stairs to his way too small apartment. He fidgets with the keys for a second and can see a pedestrian looking at him funnily. Dan waits until he leaves and bangs his hand against the stupid door that won’t open like every so often. A loud screeching fills the street and the door finally swings open, Dan’s hand pulsing from the amount of energy he just forced through it.

Inside it smells as wet as outside, but with a staler tang. As per usual, Dan wrinkles his nose in slight disgust and throws his bag onto the old worn out brown sofa. Next to the window there is a small pool of rainwater on the floor so Dan throws his shoes there, not caring if they get soaked any more. He has rented one of those stupid apartments that are not really in the basement of the house but also not really on the ground floor, just in perfect height for the rain to dribble through the leaking window that Dan wishes didn’t even exist because it lets through the water but barely enough sunlight; if it ever is sunny in London.

He sighs, almost defeated, and walks to the fridge that he hopes has been working in the last three days that he wasn’t in his apartment. The stench that comes from it tells Dan that he can give up on the few things he has stored in it. His stomach rumbles in protest but there is not much he can do about it. It’s not like he needs to eat, it just makes him feel better about himself and it helps him recover faster from spending his energy.

“Fucking hell!” Dan screams at the useless fridge and kicks it harder than he intended. Now there is a hole in it where his foot is stuck and he feels like crying. It hasn’t worked properly anyway. However, this is the last straw to make him break down and it leaves him curled up next to his fridge in his stinking, wet apartment that he can barely afford but needs as a hideout. “I hate this,” he mumbles into his knees that he has drawn up to his chest.

A wrecked sob rips from his throat and he digs his fingernails into his arms that are wrapped tightly around his legs as if trying to keep himself together. The flat is getting darker by the minute as the light shower of rain turns into a full on storm, dark grey clouds blocking out any remaining light.

Dan sits there for a moment and thinks everything through. He mentally lists all the possibilities that he has left . He tries to calm down a bit and lets his head fall against the wall behind him with a thud.

“Number one: Find a better paying job and try to get your life together. Move every five years so people won’t realize you don’t age,” Dan says aloud to fill the eerie silence of the apartment. Sometimes, when he lets his imagination wander far enough and he talks loud enough, he forgets how lonely he is. “This means I probably have to go back to Uni. For which I need money. A lot of money.” Dan hesitates and then snorts. “Yeah, right.”

“Number two: Get to your feet, travel across the country, possibly the world, and find your soul mirror. For which I need money. Again. Fuck,” he hisses and stands up to run around the flat to warm up a bit. It’s not like he can afford proper heating. “Why is the world run by money? Even traveling and not staying anywhere is fucking expensive. Except I walk all the way.” Dan stops in the middle of his living room. “I wonder how long it takes to travel to every corner of the world by foot.” He thinks for another minute before shaking his head. He couldn’t even leave the UK without money.

“Okay, number three: Work your ass off 24/7 and hope to earn some money so your life isn’t as shit anymore as it is right now. No wait, that’s almost the same as number one.” He continues his journey through the room and steps into the puddle next to the door every second round. “Number four: End it.” At that option he stops in his tracks once more and hesitates. ‘Nobody would really miss him anyway. His parents don’t even know if he is still alive and probably would be happy to finally find evidence about his whereabouts. He can leave a letter and his old address for the police to find. Someone will surely call the police when he does it in his flat. The stench would be too much to go unnoticed. Although, being found half rotten and stinking isn’t really how Dan wants to be found. He can just- yes, he can just go to the Tower Bridge. He heard that the view from up there is pretty amazing. That would be a nice last thing to see. If he looks up when he falls and he does it on a sunny day he can see the blue sky. He loves the colour blue. Yes, this seems like a plan. After all, he is in control of his life. Nothing else is controlling him. He decides what is best.’ He chuckles a little at that although he doesn’t know why.

As he walks past the cloudy mirror on the wall he freezes. His eyes are glowing back at him in a fiery red. Well, not red as in ‘red from crying’, more like his irises have turned that blood red with the tiny black patterns in them that always make Dan shudder in disgust and anxiety. He rubs frantically at his eyes and hopes for the colour to fade and show his usual chocolate brown. “Why the fuck is this happening now?”

He glances back at his reflection. It’s still there. “Go away.”

No.

“Fuck off!” he exclaims and falls to the floor. “Fuck off and leave me alone! I never asked for this! What did I do to deserve this? I don’t want this! I don’t want to be like this.”

He hunches forward, suddenly feeling sick. There is that tingling sound in his ears and he can’t get rid of it no matter how often he shakes his head. With great difficulty he manages to pull himself up and stumble to the bathroom. He seals the sink with a plug and quickly turns on the cold water. In the mirror he expects to see a panicked boy but instead he is met with a blurry reflection of himself, looking slightly insane. His irises are still discoloured.

Some cold water splashes against his shirt where his body is pressed against the porcelain of the sink, which wakes Dan from his shocked trance. He stops the water and bends down quickly, submerging his entire head underwater. For a second he stops breathing and just tries to calm down. But the thoughts of jumping from the bridge are still in his head and he knows the one keeping them there is not his usual self.

Without thinking too much about it he starts breathing again and inhales water. The cold liquid running down his windpipe shocks his body and he throws his head back with water still in his mouth and nose. He splutters and coughs up water from his burning lungs. His entire chest and his throat feel like they’re on fire and he is sure he is going to die. The thought scares him immensely. As he steps back, he slips on the wet tiles and crashes down onto the floor, hitting his head against the doorframe. With the impact the tingling in his ears fades.

For a second he thinks he is fine, but then a loud screeching fills his head and he feels his stomach tying itself into knots. He reaches for the toilet and pulls his body forward just in time before his body empties the remnants of his measly breakfast out into the bowl. His throat starts burning with the taste of the acid, even more so than before. Dan throws up a second and third time, then spits out every last bit that is still stuck in his mouth. He is heaving when he leans his forehead against the cold toilet seat. He clutches his stomach and whines low in his throat, wincing at the sharp pain that runs through his upper body and chest.

It’s moments like this when he wishes for someone to come in and help him get up, maybe stroke his sweaty hair back and rub his arm to reassure him that everything is going to be fine. He honestly wants to think that and he wants to be sure that it’s true, that he’s going to be okay. But it has been a long time since he is has been fine and he desperately needs it to get better or else he might just give up all hope he has left.

Dan sits there for another five minutes, resting his pounding head on the edge of the toilet, not caring that he should find it slightly disgusting. He simply can’t bring himself to care at the moment. When he finally gets to his feet, he’s still shaking. The tiles beneath him seem to dance from side to side, but it surely is only Dan’s fuzzy brain. A short glance at the mirror tells Dan that at least his eyes have gone back to normal. His skin is even paler and his brown locks stand from his head in every direction. Other than that he looks just fine.

With a heavy sigh he reaches out to flush down what’s still in the bowl. His hand is shaking more than Dan’s knees, which shouldn’t even be possible, judging from the way he has to clutch the wall in order to stay upright.

Every breath he takes still burns in his lungs and he decides to momentarily stop breathing. It’s not like he has to. Dan doesn’t normally have a heartbeat and therefore doesn’t need to breathe. Over the time he learned to do it anyway, at least in public, as it might seem weird to strangers on the tube when he stands there motionless without breathing. He doesn’t know about his heartbeat. Sometimes he lets it beat for a few seconds only to check if it would still work if needed. Other than that it remains motionless in his chest, just a lump of muscles and blood without any use. He doesn’t want to trick his mind into thinking he’s normal or that he is alive. Well, technically he kind of is. His brain is working accordingly and he could as well have normal human bodily functions if he wills his body to do that. It’s just… he isn’t dead, but at the same time he isn’t alive either. Because what is he, when his heart and his breathing stop? He shouldn’t be able to walk and communicate and yet he is. His entire being is an impossibility.

The loud crash of thunder paired with a bright lightning shake Dan from his near existential crisis. He doesn’t have time to figure out his existence right now.

After he has drained the water from the sink and changed into a dry shirt, he falls onto the creaking sofa with a huff. “I really need to figure out my life. Honestly.” Another crack of thunder that interrupts his voice. “I’m not going to end it. I’m stronger than this part of me and I will not bow to it. Fucking hell, I made it this far, I’d be damned if I let it end now.” He laughs at his wording and sinks further into the wrinkled cushions. This sofa crease is not nearly as comfortable as it used to be five years ago when he bought it. The silence surrounding him is not comfortable either but what can he do. It would be great if he could at least phone someone, but for that he’d need actual friends. He barely has a few acquaintances who he only knows from his days of illicit employment. Then there is the barista that sometimes gives him a large coffee for the prize of a small one, and the nice ladies who usually walk past him in the park on their lunch break, have a little bit of friendly small talk with him and give him extra money because apparently he is “such a polite young boy who doesn’t deserve to live on the streets”. He does have an apartment, but he isn’t going to tell the women or else he might have to explain how he can afford it. He can’t really, almost all of his earnings, panhandled or earned illegally, go into this shitty apartment. He needs it though. The thought of living on the streets again scares him to death. Haha, as if that was possible.

The realization that he doesn’t have anyone to talk to makes Dan’s mood go even sourer and the thunderstorm outside doesn’t make the situation any better, because it means tomorrow the ground will be all muddy and cold when he goes to his usual begging spot in the park. If he is really unlucky, Louise, the blonde girl who always tips him extra, is still sick and won’t come, which means Zoe won’t take a walk through the park either. Less money and less social interaction.

Dan blinks tiredly and slumps down onto the sofa so he’s lying horizontally. He could just stop sleeping, but, much like his habit of eating, he feels like he needs to keep it in order to feel a least a little bit like a human being. He might not eat regularly or sleep the amount of hours a boy his age should. However, he still does it sometimes. He could skip sleep and food. He doesn’t want to.

The nice thing is, when he falls asleep he forgets about his problems. The hole inside him is not filled with the dark beings that keep him in this state of himself he hates so much. He is nobody and sometimes that’s better than being a monster.

~~~

Dan shoots up from the sofa with a scream dying on his lips. He stares into the empty room for a second. The walls seem to close in on him. He stumbles to the bathroom and splashes his face with water to wake up. When he looks around him the room still seems to shrink. It shrinks until it will suffocate Dan, and although he knows it’s a stupid thought, because technically he can’t die from the lack of oxygen, he panics. The weird thing is, he was used to panic attacks once. His breathing would go heavier and his heartbeat would pick up. Sometimes he’d sweat and tremble. All of his symptoms could be treated until he’d feel better. But that was when he was still a human. Now he feels the panic, only the emotional aspect of it, and that pain – and it is worse than anything he has ever experienced. Every panic attack he has is getting worse than the last. There is an awful pain in his chest, the one you feel when you try to hold your breath for too long, the one that you feel right before you gasp for air to ease the pain. But Dan’s pain doesn’t go away. It spreads through his chest into his limbs and his entire body, up to his head, until he is too dizzy to think straight. The only things that are clearly real for Dan are the panic and desperation within him.

He runs back into the living room and grabs a jacket, slips into some shoes and basically flees from his own apartment. Outside he fumbles for the pack of cigarettes, but realizes he smoked the last one yesterday. Or rather, tried to smoke it, thinking about the incident with the shopkeeper. He hisses in anger and throws the empty box into the nearest trash bin. He ruffles his messy hair and turns around multiple times. The panic is still bubbling inside him and the pain forces its way through Dan’s veins like venom. There has to be some way to calm down.

He spins a few more times before he settles into a quick pace towards the closest corner shop. With an angry huff Dan stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket while he walks. When he looks down he realizes he has put on two different shoes. He’s done this to his socks by accident before, but never with his shoes. Right now, he doesn’t have the nerves or the energy to go back though. He needs cigarettes and maybe some coffee, so he’ll have a cup for begging later on. Plus, the caffeine will get him through the seemingly endless hours of waiting for some spare change from nice passer-by’s.

In the little dimly-lit shop he reaches for one of the heavier filled cigarettes, accompanied by a new lighter, because he isn’t sure where he put his, and rushes to the check-out. He must look pretty terrible, judging from the slightly worried glance the typically rather bored-faced employee is giving him. He pays quickly and puts one of the cigarettes to his lips before he has even left the shop. Outside he doesn’t stop to look around. Dan rushes to his usual coffee shop, which is a cheaper version of Starbucks, and has his first cigarette finished within the minute it takes him to get there. He stumbles inside, still feeling chased by the panic. The last few coins in his pockets are barely enough for a simple black coffee, so that has to suffice.

The way he downs half the hot liquid in one go as soon as he steps outside speaks volumes about his emotional state. There is a certain tiredness from not sleeping enough, but he also feels too awake to go back to bed. That contradictory combination makes him slump forward while walking, but also has him looking around frantically to find something that will take his mind off his panic. His arms feel numb by now, apart from the inside of his left hand where he feels the slightly comforting warmth of the cup of coffee.

There is this ringing in his head again, the one he hears before having panic attacks. He huffs and shakes his head, stopping in his tracks in the middle of the pavement with hundreds of commuters mumbling angrily at the obstacle in their way. Dan turns around and shakes his head, the sound making his forehead sting with the loud noise. He turns again and somebody is slamming straight into him, making Dan splash his coffee all over the front of his shirt and jacket.

Dan stares at his empty cup, then to his now soiled clothes and further up to the stranger who ran into him. Except the coffee-spiller is not there anymore. He spins around angrily and spots a young man frantically wiping at his sleeve which is also stained with coffee.

“Oi, asshole! Get back here!” Dan yells towards the man and hopes he hears him. The guy actually turns around as he’s walking away and just smiles apologetically Dan’s way before turning away like it’s not his fucking business.

Dan growls low in his throat and runs after the man. Just after he walks around the next corner Dan catches up and pulls him back on his arm. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he hisses at the stranger who looks rather distressed himself. They make eye contact and Dan just freezes right there, noticing how the panic practically evaporates from his body and leaves him warm and fuzzy inside, as the demons inside him screech in agony. He lets go of the man’s arm as if he burnt his hand and stares at him dumbfounded. “What the hell…?”

The young man is rather pale, but his cheeks are red, probably from running a lot. His dyed black hair, which should probably be a fringe like Dan’s, is sticking to his forehead weirdly and with a big gap on one side. Some ginger-brown roots are showing, which explains the few tiny freckles on his slightly weird nose. All in all, this stranger is definitely not what one would usually call pretty. However, those tiny weird aspects just make a beautiful picture all together. Especially as Dan looks into those blue eyes, that are not really that amazing striking blue, but rather interesting in their own way because they almost appear green whenever the stranger looks down, and as he’s staring back up, Dan can see a few tiny yellow sprinkles in his irises and if that’s not the most fascinating thing he has ever seen he doesn’t know what is. Gosh, he feels stupid for being so amazed by a stranger’s eyes.

“Okay, look, I’m really sorry,” the man rushes to say and looks at his phone seemingly to check the time, “but I’m running late and it’s my first day – new job, you know – and it would be awful to be late on my first day and-“, he checks his phone again, “I’m already late actually, I just have to be there as soon as I can and hopefully they don’t fire me right there and then. I’m sorry again!” With that the man turns and leaves.

And Dan – as awestruck as he is – just stands there and lets the man go. In fact, he stands there for nearly twenty minutes, empty cup still clenched tightly between his fingers and his eyes fixed on the spot where the guy had stood only moments before. Where his fucking soul mirror had stood, to be exact.

He shakes his head slowly and starts moving forward slowly, following the path the stranger went until he ends up around a corner with no hint of Mr. Amazing-Eyes. After another five minutes of people bumping into his frozen form, Dan takes a deep breath as the realization settles in. That he just ran into his soul mirror. And didn’t do anything except yelling at him and letting him go without so much as an introduction or an exchange of phone numbers. If he thought of himself as stupid before, when he was admiring a stranger’s eyes, then that’s not even close to how absolutely foolish he feels right now. He groans loudly and tosses his cup at some passer-by, hitting him square on the head. The man turns angrily and Dan raises his head, knowingly letting his eyes glint in that dangerous red and dancing black swirls. A yelp follows and the man practically runs away.

Dan spins around and stomps off, towards the park that was has initial goal before he got showered in coffee. On the way he knocks into as many people as possible, to make them feel just as shitty as himself. Not a great hobby, but better than nothing.

He reaches his usual spot and plops down, pulling out his pack of cigarettes and ripping off the top to make an improvised version of a cup so he’d get at least a few coins.

By now his anger has slowly dissipated until Dan is close to tears as the gravity of this missed opportunity settles in. Dan doesn’t even know his name, not where he can find him again, has no clues where his mysterious soul mirror went. A few silent tears trickle down his cheeks, making him feel numb and small and so fucking lonely.

~~~~

A few days later, Dan waits for Mr. Amazing-Eyes in the spot where they ran into each other. He did say he was on his way to work anyway, so it is likely that the stranger is taking this route every day around the same time. Dan has been here all week, sometimes half an hour earlier, because it is likely that he is more on time than on that particular day. Today Dan is here an hour before he usually comes here, in case the stranger had overslept more than Dan anticipated. But to no avail. He’s not coming, not even on the other side of the road. It’s freezing, so Dan gives up after waiting for another hour in the cold air.

He walks towards his coffee shop with hanging shoulders, not even bothering to crash into people. The hole inside his chest seems to grow as he waits in line and counts some change he has left. His voice is monotone as he tells the barista his order. With coffee in hand he sits down in the corner of the room, where something sticky on the table looks too disgusting for Dan to put down his mug, so he holds it in his hands and stares at the black liquid, which reminds him of his soul. Or rather, the lack of it.

He snaps out of his trance from time to time, when people shuffle around close enough for Dan to hear or when the little radio in the middle of the room starts blaring louder than before because it’s broken and spontaneously changes the volume. This time the louder volume highlights the weather forecast and there’s a familiar voice. A voice that’s not familiar because Dan has heard it many times before, but because it resonates with something inside him.

The tingling sound in his head starts ringing up slightly and he sits up straighter. He listens to the weatherman, who is presenting that there will be more rain – what a surprise, considering they’re in England – and then there’s a little slip of the tongue on his part and he apologizes quickly, in the same rushed way his Mr. Amazing-Eyes had exclaimed it after running into Dan. He shoots up from his seat, coffee still in his hands and rushes over to the barista. “Which channel is that?!”

“Excuse me…?” the confused boy stumbles and looks over to his co-workers for help.

“The radio! Which channel is that?” Dan asks hurriedly while leaning over the counter.

“I, uhm, BBC radio 1, I think?”

BBC radio 1. Dan fumbles for the city map in his pocket and starts looking for the BBC-building. He lays the map in front of him. He knows the Broadcasting House is somewhere in Marylebone so he checks there and realizes, it’s not too far from the red circle that marks their first encounter. The hope that Dan was about to give up makes a big re-entry as he scrambles to pack his things up, leaving his mug on the counter with the confused barista.

He hasn’t sprinted in a long time, but now Dan runs for his life, map clutched tightly to his chest, only to be taken down when he is unsure of which direction to go. It takes him about ten minutes to get there, without his powers to help him achieve that super-human speed he uses to dodge dangerous situations. Of course, now his demons must leave him alone and almost human, he thinks bitterly and pants heavily due to his lack of exercise .

Dan comes to a halt in front of the building and stares up at it. There is no way his soul mirror has already left, not when he was just talking about the weather a few minutes ago. Taking a deep breath, Dan straightens his back, puts his map away and strolls into the lobby of the building. He makes it all to way to the receptionist before he realizes he has no idea what the stranger’s name is. The blonde receptionist has turned her back to Dan and argues with someone on the phone, so thankfully Dan has a few seconds to think about what he can say. When she looks up he recognizes her as one of the nice women who usually give him some spare change in the park nearby.

“Oh, Daniel,” she says, sounding surprised. “What are you doing here?” The person on the telephone does not seem amused by her lack of attention and yells out some profanities that Dan thinks are inappropriate for any co-workers, even if she is ‘only’ working as a receptionist, before he angrily hangs up.

“Hi, nice to see you. I, uhm, I’m not stalking you if that’s what you’re thinking,” Dan mumbles sheepishly.

She shakes her head with a small smile on her bright pink lips. “I wasn’t thinking that until you brought it up. But it’s nice to see you again, you weren’t in the park for quite a while and I was wondering where you went.”

He scratches the back of his head and tries to smile back. He forgot how hard it is to lift the corners of his mouth without making it seem like he’s trying to kill her entire family. “Yeah, I kinda got a job.” It was only some illicit work, but he did in fact work, since he figured he’d need a bit more money soon, as the winter is coming up and he needs a little more money to pay the heating.

“Ohhh, that’s great! Congratulations!” she exclaims and seems genuinely happy for Dan, clapping her hands together in excitement. He doesn’t even know her name, yet she seems so friendly and congratulates him on getting a job. “So, what brings you here if you’re not trying to follow me home creepily?”

He grips the edges of the counter and shrugs slightly. “I wanted to visit a friend. You know, tall, pale, dyed black hair, amazing blue-green eyes,…” he trails off and hopes for the woman to jump in with a name upon realizing who he’s talking about. He runs out of descriptions for the handsome stranger too fast for the woman to catch on so he just stands there awkwardly. She eyes him up and down suspiciously. “You’re not a crazy fan of one of our broadcasters, are you?”

His eyes widen and he quickly raises his hands, waving off the accusation. “What? No, no! I just wanted to visit him, we were planning to get lunch together.”

“At four pm?”

Dan’s eyes wander to the clock on the wall behind her and he mentally kicks himself for not thinking this through. “Yes. We usually eat that late.”

She nods slowly and leans forward as if to investigate Dan further. “Who were you meeting here did you say?”

“Uhm, you know… him, the guy that I just mentioned.”

“And his name is…?” she urges and waits patiently.

Dan groans in annoyance and lets his head fall onto the wooden counter. “Look, I don’t know, okay? I met him once, ran into him on his way to work and he splashed coffee all over me. Over that one shirt that I still have from before my parents kicked me out and that was really fucking expensive.” He is lying a little here, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. “And I need it cleaned up, memories and all, you know. I can’t afford it and he probably can, but he ran off before I could catch him. I just want to talk to him about it and make him at least apologize for what he’s done.” Dan takes a deep breath and thinks about dying puppies to make his eyes well up with tears. “I loved that shirt so much!”

The woman jumps up at that and leans over the counter, tugging Dan forward into a massive hug. He practically sinks into her soft arms and lets a fake sob rip from his throat. “Oh, honey, shh. It’s okay. I’m sure we’ll find out who did that and he’ll let it get cleaned. It’s going to be okay,” she mumbles into his ear and he cringes at her breath ghosting over his neck. He nods weakly and snuffles loud enough for her to let go at the grossness of it.

She rubs his arms and smiles encouragingly. “Okay, how about I bring you some water and you sit down while I look for your shirt-abuser?”

“Yes, please,” he answers quietly and rubs his eyes, sinking into himself to appear small and helpless.

“I’m Louise by the way. If you were wondering,” the blonde woman says as she hands him a glass of water. Dan nods with his eyes cast downwards.

She puts her hand on his shoulder and Dan seriously wonders what’s with all this touching. He’s got a ruined shirt, at least as far as she’s aware, and not a dying family member. Louise sits back down and searches for something in her bag that’s placed by her feet. When she emerges, she’s holding some chocolate in her hand and places it in front of Dan. “Here, something to cheer you up. Chocolate efficiently brightens up your mood and helps produce endorphins, which make you happy. Believe me, I – good night, Phil! – usually eat some when I get sad.” The interjection in the middle seems to be directed to someone who has just left the elevator. She waves at the guy and turns her attention back to Dan. He looks at the man who’s leaving from the corner of his eye while he’s listening to Louise ramble on about the positive effects of chocolate. Tall, black hair, kind of pale, long strides towards the exit. And that familiar ringing inside Dan’s head that tells him something is going on. He turns his head all the way and catches just a glimpse of the stranger before he leaves out the door, the same stranger who strode away quickly after knocking over Dan’s coffee.

All thoughts about Louise are gone when he recognizes the man. “Louise, I have to go!” he rushes to say and then sprints after the stranger. Phil.

He rips open the door to see Phil walk around a corner. Again. What’s with his soul mirror leaving around corners?

Dan sprints after him and, thankfully, this time he has not gotten too far away before Dan can catch up. He reaches out and touches Phil’s arm, the demons shrieking in agony once again. His entire world stops spinning, just like last time. Phil turns around in surprise and their eyes meet again and Dan can only think about last time they ran into each other.

“You twat ruined my shirt and spilled my coffee!” he yells angrily and lets go of Phil’s arm.

Phil stares at him for a moment, obviously having no idea what Dan is talking about, before realization settles in and he takes a step back. “Oh, oh no. I did, didn’t I?”

Dan crosses his arms defensively and glares at him. “Yes, and I was already having a shit day! I woke up without even remotely enough sleep, I had barely enough money for some fucking coffee and then, guess what, a stupid idiot who doesn’t look where he’s going runs into me and spills my own coffee all over me!” He practically screams at Phil in the middle of the street. A stranger, mind you, who has no idea who Dan is, what he wants and how he found him.

Dan ruffles his hair, and regrets not putting as much effort into styling it as he usually does. “Are you gonna say something or what?” he hisses and steps forward, trying to intimidate Phil further. Phil flinches slightly when Dan invades his personal space. They are almost the same height, with Dan only being a few centimetres shorter than Phil. After a few seconds of silence Phil takes a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry…?” Phil says hesitantly, making it sound more like a question than a statement.

“Well, I hope you are!” Dan growls and pokes his finger into Phil’s chest accusingly. He stares at him, rage still bubbling inside him. His demons taunt him, urging him to go further, to do something, show this pathetic wimp who Dan is and who he can be. The rage inside him is blinding, it’s red hot anger, burning away his control until he feels the uncontrollable need to jump the stranger and strangle him with his bare hands. He ran into Dan without remorse, spilled coffee over him and… probably didn’t do it on purpose.

Dan stops at that. The angry flames that threatened to spill over shrink slightly.

After all, Phil was in a hurry and worried about losing his job. A thing that Dan would also value more than someone else’s shirt and some coffee.

His fingers unclench from the fists he had wrapped around the corners of his jacket.

It is likely that Phil hadn’t expected Dan to suddenly spin around. Dan probably looked like any other commuter, walking slowly out of the corner of his eye. How could Phil have known what Dan was about to do? He couldn’t have possibly imagined the panic attack Dan was in at that time.

Dan blinks and he sees Phil, a worried look in those fucking amazing eyes. He steps back and feels his knees wobble. He suddenly feels so small and vulnerable, although Phil should be the one scared shitless.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I- I didn’t mean to- I scared you,” Dan stumbles over his words. It’s been a long time since he last apologized genuinely to someone. He feels bad for threatening Phil, a kind stranger who has no bad intentions towards him.

Dan is sick of calling Phil a stranger. “My name is Dan,” he awkwardly introduces himself and holds out his hand for Phil.

The other has not said a single word since Dan exploded and yelled at him. He is still eyeing him suspiciously as he takes his hand and shakes it. There is a certain warmth in his fingers and Dan feels it linger after they stop touching.

For Phil, this situation has to seem awful. In the last three minutes, Dan has yelled at him, apologized in a stutter and blurted out his name without context. Great, just how Dan always wanted to get to know his soul mirror. By now he just wants to crawl into a hole and bury himself.

“I’m Phil… are you okay?” he asks timidly and tilts his head just the tiniest bit.

Something in Dan’s brain must have short-circuited. Definitely. There is no other explanation for his lack of response for the first few seconds and the following sudden burst of “let me buy you some coffee!”

Phil stares at him with a million questions written behind his eyes. He then grins slightly and Dan has no idea why the hell he would do that as a complete psycho is molesting him.

“Shouldn’t I invite you for something to drink? I mean, after all I was the one to run into you and… yeah,” he trails of and pales slightly when he sees Dan’s shocked face. “I-I mean for like, a friendly chat. Nothing inappropriate! That sounded really wrong, I’m sorry.”

At some point, Dan is able to connect his mouth and his brain again. He tries a small smile and probably succeeds, judging from the gentle lop-sided smile Phil is returning.

“I mean, you do owe me some coffee,” Dan says and shrugs like his entire future isn’t depending on this conversation right now. “Let me just ask you one question before we go.”

“Okay sure,” Phil answers.

“Do you have a thing for crazy people or something? Because inviting a stranger with weird mood swings to drink some coffee probably isn’t the most normal or healthy reaction.”

At that Phil smiles, a slight blush forming on his pale cheeks. Dan follows the colour with his eyes and decides he quite likes the pink tint and he should try to bring it forth more often in the future.

“I mean, I do have some form of weirdo-magnet on my back. I always attract strange people whenever I go out, so…” Phil says and chuckles, his cute little tongue poking out on one side and it’s the most adorable thing Dan has seen all day. Gosh, he is so far gone already. Then Phil’s hand flies up as if to cover his funny little quirk and Dan wants to pry the hand away because Phil should not be ashamed of his laugh and the fact that he is, tells Dan someone made fun of it in the past. He wants to rip whoever did it in shreds.

Phil fixes his fringe although there isn’t really something to fix, considering his black hair is lying nicely over his forehead, just like Dan always tries to make his own hair look and at which he’d maybe succeed if it wasn’t for the stupid curls that start forming whenever it’s even remotely humid.

“Okay, so now that your question is answered… want to go?” Phil asks and turns halfway into the direction he was about to go in before Dan interrupted.

Dan nods and tries to walk towards Phil elegantly. Of course, he horribly fails as he trips over nothing and stumbles forward. He catches himself before landing on his knees but he still feels the embarrassment burn hot in his face.

Phil grins at him even wider. “Oh, thank god. You’re just as clumsy as me! I think we’ll get along well,” he says and gestures for Dan to follow.

He trails after him like a lost puppy. To be honest, he doesn’t mind too much. Phil has a unique way of walking. There’s a slight sway in his admittedly wider hips, nothing like the choreographed moves a model would have, but still intriguing in its own way.

Sadly, he doesn’t get to watch too long, as Phil turns around and waits for Dan to catch up so they can walk side by side.

“So…” he starts and fiddles with his fringe again, “how did you find me? Do I now have my own personal stalker?”

Dan’s mouth goes dry. His story of coincidentally hearing Phil’s voice on the radio that just happened to be louder when Phil was speaking and Dan even more coincidentally remembering Phil’s voice after hearing it only once does sound a bit far-fetched.

He tries a smaller version of his story. “I heard you on the radio and happened to be nearby, so I thought I’d give it a shot.”

Phil glances at him from the side. “A shot for what to achieve? Meet me? Tell me off for spilling coffee over you?”

Dan avoids eye contact and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Uhm, yeah.” He can hardly tell Phil he is hoping for a date or a romance or a shared future, anything that will set him free from his misery.

“Okay, well, you did that.” Phil checks his phone and smiles at a message.

Dan can’t miss this opportunity to ask. “Cute text from your girlfriend?”

Phil laughs quietly and puts his phone away. “No, funny text from a good friend. He’s trying to convince me to help him plan his birthday party. I’m too lazy but I might do it anyway.”

He nods in agreement and they walk for a bit before he brings it up again. “And your girlfriend doesn’t want to help? Aren’t girls into that sort of stuff?”

Dan tries to ignore the weird look Phil is giving him. Sure, his tactics aren’t the most subtle, but he needs to know whether there’s rivalry he has to get rid of.

After a few seconds, Phil shakes his head and looks forward again. “I don’t have a girlfriend,” he says.

Dan nods. “Ah, I see. Boyfriend then. No worries, I don’t judge. Would be quite hypocritical of me.”

Phil stops abruptly and Dan has no choice but to follow Phil’s example and turn around to face him. “Are you trying to ask if I’m single?”

If the question hadn’t sounded so absolutely shocked, Dan would probably answer something witty in a flirtatious voice, but in this situation he freezes and looks everywhere but at Phil. “No, of course not,” he mumbles and kicks a pebble out of his way.

Phil stays silent until Dan looks up. They share eye contact and Dan tries desperately to see what Phil is thinking.

He gives in, sighing heavily. “Okay, maybe I was trying to ask that.”

It’s now Phil’s turn to look away and fiddle with his fingers. “Oh.” He grows silent again. Then, “I’m not… I’m flattered, but I’m not…” He looks up, straightens his jacket once, twice, fiddles with his fingers again. “…I’m not into this, uhm, sort of thing.”

Dan’s eyes widen and he quickly waves it off like it wasn’t important. “Oh, I see. Sorry. I didn’t mean to-,” he gasps for air as quietly as he can, forcing back the numb void that is forming in his chest as his demons chuckle in delight. Phil is straight. He just asked a straight man very obviously whether he is single. Dan feels ashamed. “I didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries. You know what, I’m just gonna leave and you can pretend that never happened. Uhm, yeah,” he says and pulls his jacket closer to shield himself from the sudden cold that is threatening to take over, now that all hopes of getting with his soul mirror are in smithereens.

“No, no, that’s not necessary!” Phil hurries to say. “I’m not judging you or anything. I just didn’t want you to show interest in me or something when I’m not really interested in that kind of thing. I did invite you for a friendly coffee bro-date though, so if you don’t mind, we can still do that,” he suggests and juts out his elbow as if asking Dan to link arms with him.

Dan stares and nods silently. Friends, sure. He can work with that. There are people who find out about their sexuality very late in life. Phil is at least in his late twenties, maybe he is one of those. His soul mirror wouldn’t be someone who isn’t even going for the right gender. Right?

“So… we’re bros now?” he asks jokingly and links his arm with Phil. They start walking again and the physical contact makes Dan’s insides feel like a warm bubble-bath, even though in the back of his mind he registers the shrieking of his demons.

Phil laughs with that adorable little tongue thing again and forgets to hide it. “No, we’re going on a bro-date.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“On dates, people get to know each other to become a couple. On bro-dates, people get to know each other to become, well, bro’s,” Phil says like it’s the most logical thing in the world.

Dan grins, honestly grins at that, and shakes his head. “Why do I feel like you normally never use words like ‘bro’? Are you trying to sound cool?”

“I am cool, thank you very much,” Phil says in mock offence and clutches his heart.

Dan snorts in disbelief. “Yeah, right.”

Phil bumps into him as they stop at a traffic light to cross the road. “I’m cool enough to have a fan.”

Dan stares at him in surprise. “You have a fan?”

Phil grins and raises his brows.

The realization starts to settle in and Dan huffs in annoyance. “I am not your fan!”

“Of course you are. You even came to the radio station to see me. Probably to get an autograph but then you were too shy to ask,” he says and pulls Dan with him when the light changes to green.

“Oh, yeah, right. How could I forget. Phil Trash #1 right here,” he says sarcastically and fans himself while blinking furiously up at Phil. “Oh, amazing Phil, might I have your autograph and kiss your shoes?”

“Stop it!” Phil yelps as Dan presses into his side with a dramatic pose. He laughs and pushes Dan off, trying to walk straight but getting dragged to the side by Dan’s shove.

They both giggle in amusement and share some more banter before they reach their destination. Starbucks. Of course.

Dan makes a stupid joke about Phil being pale enough that the milk froth beard from his Caramel Frappuccino basically vanishes on his skin. Phil laughs at Dan for mixing two different syrups into his hot chocolate. Dan jokingly tells Phil off for being a ‘basic white Starbitch’. It goes back and forth like this for hours. Phil insists on paying for Dan’s drink, which Dan is glad about because Starbucks is expensive and he does not have five pounds for a stupid drink. He could get food for two days for that amount of money.

They sit there until it’s dark outside and Dan has learned that Phil dislikes all forms of cheese, except it’s a pizza topping. He knows that when Phil looks directly into the light, his eyes are pale blue and when he stares at his phone they change to green. Dan has been told that it’s perfectly normal to not wear matching socks, that Phil has a master’s degree in Language and Linguistics, that he came to London just a few weeks ago for a job at BBC radio 1 to broadcast the weather until their weatherwoman is back from maternity leave, that he holds the Guinness world record for fastest coin stacking, that he loves lions and cats and dogs, but is allergic to all of them except for the last. Dan knows so many random facts about Phil already, because Phil likes to tell him all kinds of things about himself and also because Dan likes listening to him because he is cute and sweet and gentle and funny and everything he ever wanted in a friend, a partner.

Dan is careful when it comes to telling Phil things about himself. As much as he tries to avoid lying, it’s impossible to be honest all the time. He does not tell Phil his real age, but instead his fake one that matches his looks. He doesn’t tell him about his lack of legal jobs either or about any of his demonic problems. His downsides are to be hidden from Phil for now. Until Dan can trust him.

Nonetheless, they sit there, in that booth in the corner with the comfortable arm chairs, until Phil’s eyes widen when he checks his phone and realises they’ve been chatting way longer than either of them anticipated. Dan types his number into Phil’s phone and promises to meet again soon.

When they stand outside the shop, Dan awkwardly waves, but Phil is quicker and pulls Dan into a massive hug that warms him more than the hot chocolates he drank during their time together.

Dan stands there, staring after Phil, long after he vanishes at the end of the street with a final wave. He hugs himself happily and relishes in the warmth that is still running through his veins. Yes, Phil Lester is perfection and Dan will be damned to let him go.

~~~~

In retrospect, Dan is now worried about Phil’s safety. Does he regularly invite random strangers to drink coffee with him? Does he have an underdeveloped instinct, telling him to stay clear of weird people on the street? Does he usually befriend bipolar psychos?

Dan lies awake at night, thinking about these things. He stares at his phone on the night stand and considers texting Phil like he promised. But he also considered it the previous four nights and nothing happened. There’s something in his chest, pulling him up, urging him to reach for the phone. At the same time the demons taunt him. They say that Phil can’t be that understanding and sweet. He probably faked all those smiles and laughs and giggles, probably tried to avoid further discussions with the weird kid that was molesting him after a long day of work.

Dan shivers unpleasantly and sits up. He could at least check to see if it’s a real phone number. With numb fingers he types a short message:

hey, weird molester guy you drank a coffee with here

As soon as he hits send, he regrets his choice of words. He could’ve written his name, since Phil seemed nice enough to try to remember people’s names. Also, if Phil really does this more often then he’ll be terribly confused which one just texted him.

Dan throws his head into his pillow and stares at the ceiling. Some lights are dancing across it. Seems like there are more people up at an ungodly hour. He doesn’t even know what time it is. Who cares.

The yellowy-white lights shift from one end of the room to the other and vanish. Then there’s another pair, chasing into the opposite direction. Dan even sees a shadow in one of the lights, running by just as quickly. It’s times like this when Dan wonders what his life has come to. He used to be relatively good in school, getting okay grades. He planned to study law at university.

To be fair, he did start doing that. Not for very long, considering how fast everything in his life changed shortly after becoming a student, but he did try. Maybe if he hadn’t been so self-absorbed, he might not have fallen into the dark abyss of constant worry and self-pity. He didn’t need to think about his existence 24/7 or wonder if anything has any meaning in this world. He barely exists for a minimalistic moment in history and will vanish as soon as all people who knew him have died. Dan has often wondered, doubted whether he should care about any of it all. Yet he cared enough to know that everything went downhill. He watched as he failed exam after exam, missed courses to wallow in self-pity, friends stopping to ask him twenty times a day if he wanted to talk or eat or do anything really. And at some point, when no one was there anymore, as far as he knew, there was an empty hole in his chest. Not because he was depressed, he didn’t think that. It wasn’t like anything he read online. There was just no meaning and he gave up on himself, the world. That certain lack of care was what killed him. Not really, he never died, of course. Or else he wouldn’t be here. No, he just… stopped being. That is the best way to describe it. And soon after that emptiness inside him was starting to corrupt Dan, there was something else. He certainly did care about things again after that one point when he knocked over one of his dorm mates and sent him flying into a wall. To this day, he can’t remember what it was that set him off so badly, but he was angry, so angry he blindly threw away humanity and gave up in a whole other way than he had just a few months before.

Well, here he is. The empty hole inside his chest seems to be filled, but with what exactly, Dan would rather not know.

“I’m a monster,” he mumbles into the darkness.

His phone suddenly lights up the room and Dan is pulled out of his memories. He shoots up to see Phil is calling him. After a few seconds of dumbfounded staring towards the ringing device, he takes it in his hand and somehow convinces himself to pick up.

“Hello?”

“Are you always up that early?” Phil asks from the other end. His voice is deeper than last time, if also a bit scratchy from just waking up.

“I- I didn’t check the time,” Dan stutters and pulls the phone from his ear to see for himself. Half past five in the morning. “Sorry. Did I wake you up?”

Some rustling and a yawn. “Yes, I forgot to put my phone on silent, but it’s okay. I was just too lazy to text back. Hope that doesn’t bother you.”

“No, not really.”

Phil hums in agreement and they stay quiet for some time.

“So, did you try to be mysterious or were you worried I forgot your name?” Phil finally asks.

“Well, I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d leave you a nice message to wake up to,” Dan says in an attempt of a joke.

“Oh, yes. The nice reminder of the – how did you call it? – ‘weird molester’ I encountered recently. I always enjoy waking up to these kinds of things,” Phil mumbles and there’s some more rustling.

Dan feels bad for waking him up at this time and lies down, tries to think of something smart and witty to say so as to not waste Phil’s time. “We don’t have to keep talking, you know? Just go back to sleep or something.”

“I know I don’t have to, but if you’re awake I’ll keep you company for a bit. I’m trying not to fall asleep but if I do, I owe you another round of coffee,” Phil says quietly. He sounds like he’s on the verge of sleep already.

There’s a small smile tugging at the corners of Dan’s mouth. “What a nice considerate gentleman you are.”

“Yes, I truly am.”

They remain quiet for some time and it really should be awkward. Or maybe it should feel perfect, as if they were in some teenage romance movie. It’s neither, it’s just silence. How much can you interpret into that? Especially if one of you is almost asleep and the other has no idea how to function socially.

“Phil, can you please fall asleep?” He asks after a little bit.

Phil grunts quietly into the phone and mumbles something along the lines of “why?”

“Because I really want you to invite me for some coffee again.”

“’Kay then,” Phil says and soon after, there’s nothing to be heard but very quiet breaths.

Dan doesn’t want to hang up. Phil is asleep, so he knows it’s ridiculous to stay on the line. After a rather long time of listening to Phil’s slow breathing he decides that’s enough and any further makes him look too much of a stalker.

“Good night, Phil,” he says and waits, hoping no answer will come. When it doesn’t, he hangs up and puts his phone gently down next to himself. He turns around and stares at it.

“Baby steps Daniel, baby steps.”

~~~~

“Okay, no. That’s bullshit,” Dan states as Phil lets out a squeak. “Oh come on, I swear all the fucking time, get used to it. It’s not like you never swear.”

Phil takes another sip of his Pumpkin Spice Latte (for which Dan already judged him) and shakes his head slightly. “Well, at least I only do it while playing video games or when I stub my toe.”

“Whatever,” Dan says and wraps his hands a little tighter around his own cup of coffee. He looks over the park from their position on the bench and studies the few other people out here. Although it was a nice autumn day in the morning, it has been getting colder by the minute after noon and they’re already freezing in the wind that has picked up ten minutes ago.

It’s their fifth bro-date already – not like Dan counted, it’s just a weirdly accurate guess – and they decided that for once they’d spend some time outside. What a terrible decision. If Dan wasn’t immortal he’d be afraid of freezing to death right where he is sitting.

Phil sneezes and sniffs awkwardly. “Remind me to never suggest going outside ever again,” he says and presses his cup against his rosy cheeks. That’s really the only good thing about their current location, Dan thinks. He gets to see a constantly blushy Phil, even if it’s not due to something Dan said.

“Can we go inside somewhere?” Dan pleads and shuffles around a bit to warm up his muscles.

Phil shrugs. “Where do you want to go?”

“Preferably somewhere with a lower risk of getting frostbite within the next five minutes.”

They stand up and toss their empty cups into the nearest bin after drinking them. Dan stuffs his hands into his pockets and regrets not bringing his scarf to wrap himself in it like a human burrito.

“We can just go to my place,” Phil says and starts walking towards the end of the park. “It’s warm and cosy and has video games. You always brag about your gaming skills; now you can show me.”

Dan stops in his tracks and stares after Phil. “You want me to come to your place?”

Phil stops as well and turns around slightly confused. “Yes? Why is that so surprising?”

They make eye contact and Dan tries to find a reasonable explanation for his confusion. “You’re just so…nice,” he finally states.

“I’m nice because I invite you over to my place?” Phil questions with his head tilting like a puppy’s.

Dan nods slightly. A few seconds pass as they study each other quietly.

“What kind of asshole friends do you have?” Phil asks.

“So much for not swearing.”

“Oh shush,” Phil exclaims, “I’m busy wondering why you consider inviting a friend over as something so incredible.”

Dan shrugs and kicks away some pebbles, watching them roll into the dying greenish-brown grass to his right. “Bad memories?”

When he looks up, he sees that look on Phil’s face. That look that says ‘You poor lost soul, I want to make it better!’ and ‘What is up with you?’ at the same time. Dan wants to tell Phil how to make it better. He really does. But then he’d also have to answer the other unspoken question and he decides it can wait.

He must have spaced out for a bit, because when his eyes focus on the present again Phil is standing a lot closer than before and rubs his arm through his thick jacket. “You good?” he asks gently. Dan closes his eyes for a moment and enjoys the situation. It has been way too long since someone bothered to care about him like this. Phil’s voice is gentle and soft and just the tiniest bit deeper than usual. It’s calming and Dan never wants it to end, wants to bask in his attention just a few more minutes.

Pathetic.

He snaps out of it and blinks. With a huff he straightens his back and takes a step forward. “Sure, just peachy. Let’s go,” he states. Dan tries to sound as if he means it but he’s not sure he succeeds.

Phil nods and says nothing more. It’s awful. Dan is constantly torn between refusing to talk and wanting to pour his heart out. He knows all too well, mainly from reading too much and living vicariously through novels’ characters, that not talking is always the wrong thing to do. So many problems and misunderstandings wouldn’t even occur if people just talked and didn’t try to use a vague code without any common rules. It’s times like this when Dan understands why people are dumb enough to remain silent. When his throat constricts and his words fade before even getting a chance to be heard.

On the way to Phil’s apartment they fill the heavy silence between them with meaningless banter. They stay close to each other, close enough for Dan’s hand to brush Phil’s knuckles from time to time. Maybe that happens a few times more than it would without Dan’s help but Phil either doesn’t mind or is too engulfed in his stories about his former work experiences that he doesn’t notice.

At the apartment, Phil puts on a movie and insists on showing off his popcorn master skills that he claims to have. Dan hops onto the counter and watches as Phil lets it pop up in the microwave. In Dan’s opinion, he stops it too early, but as soon as the package is opened he sees the delicious golden and white puffed popcorns and barely any kernels. “I’m impressed, Master Philip.”

“May the popcorn be with you,” he giggles in return and pushes one between Dan’s lips. Dan chews and opens his mouth once more like a young bird. “More!”

Phil grins and feeds him another one before pulling away with a smile. “I have poor self-control with snacks. If we keep standing here we’ll eat all of it before we get to watch the movie.”

They settle down on the sofa and put on Kill Bill. Phil was shocked to hear that Dan has never seen it before so he feels obligated to show him now. Not like Dan would complain about spending an evening in a cosy and warm apartment with Phil. It’s like finally finding a best friend for the first time in his life…

The cold must have really tired Dan out. When he wakes up from his involuntary nap the credits are already rolling on the screen. There is a fluffy blanket draped over his legs and his head is resting on something incredibly warm. Dan looks up and sees a pale chin right next to his face. “What the hell…?”

His warm pillow shifts slightly and a small giggle is heard. “Morning, sleeping beauty.”

Dan groans and rubs at his eyes. “I feel more like Shrek, but okay.” He shifts his weight and cuddles more into Phil. “I missed the movie,” he says with a frown.

Phil shrugs and makes Dan’s head bob up and down a bit. “Doesn’t matter, you’ll just have to come over again.”

He nods and looks up at Phil. “What a shame. I dislike hanging out with you so much. How did I deserve this torture?” he jokes.

Phil turns his head down so they’re facing each other, Dan’s head still on Phil’s shoulder. “I knew it. You’re just in it for the coffee,” he answers.

Dan grins the tiniest bit. “You got me.”

“Aha!” Phil exclaims quietly. His gaze then wanders up to Dan’s hair. He reaches out and pushes a strand off his forehead and back into the fringe. Dan stays still and waits. They make eye contact and he could swear he sees Phil’s gaze shift to his lips for a split second. It’s now or never, Dan thinks. He leans up and barely brushes their lips together. He is aware that his own are chapped and a bit dry, but Phil’s are infinitely soft and warm and Dan would love to just melt into it. He doesn’t try to because he isn’t even sure if he is allowed this much. Phil moves towards Dan slightly and his hand that was still in Dan’s hair is travelling to wrap around the back of his neck. The motion lets the demons shriek and howl and Dan feels ecstatic because they are kissing. Well, pressing their lips together really, really softly, but it’s something like a kiss.

As soon as it started, it ends. Phil shoots away from Dan and stumbles from the couch, nearly falling over the blanket in the process. Dan sits in the same spot and stares up at him in confusion. They just kissed. They’re supposed to live happily ever after now.

Then why is Phil putting so much distance between them now? Why does he look so devastated?

Dan opens his mouth. Closes it. Stares. Opens it and lets out a confused squeak because he’s not able to produce anything else for now. Phil stares back with a panicked expression.

“I’m sorry!” Phil suddenly blurts out.

Dan blinks. “What?”

Phil ruffles his hair and fiddles with his fingers once again. This seems to be a nervous habit. “I shouldn’t have… I’m not even… just, forget about it. It was a mistake, okay? Never happened,” he pleads.

Dan regains some composure and feels anger bubble up inside himself. “Excuse me?”

Phil lets his hands fall down. “I-“

“No, don’t!” Dan interrupts.

Phil grows silent again.

“Don’t you dare tell me you’re straight now! I will not fucking believe it. No straight guy kisses his male friend in a situation like this! For experimentation, yes, I’ll believe that. But not now. Not after we watched a movie and fucking cuddled on the couch! Fuck you, honestly. You and your play-pretend heterosexuality. You are not straight! This is not a mistake. I’m not a mistake! I will not accept-“

“I’m not straight,” Phil interrupts with a confused frown on his face.

Dan stops in the middle of his rant. “You… know it already?”

“I have known it since secondary school…” Phil says and trails off.

“But… you said… back then, that you weren’t interested in ‘that kind of thing’!” Dan points out, still angry.

They stare at each other for a moment. “Dan, I was talking about dating teenagers,” Phil finally says.

“I- you- what?” Dan asks dumbly and sits down on the sofa again. He doesn’t even know when he stood up in the first place.

Phil sighs and picks up the blanket to fold it. He avoids all eye contact. “I didn’t mean being with another man, when I said that. I was referring to our age gap.”

Dan nods and considers this. Then he shakes his head. “I don’t get it.”

Phil frowns at the folded blanket in his arms like it was refusing to tell him what to say. “I’m not against dating you because you are a boy. I actually don’t care about what gender I’m dating. But I have set some rules for myself and one of them is that there is a limit for age gaps in any relationships for me.”

“And that limit is…?”

“Not more than five years.”

Dan huffs. “That’s bullshit.”

Phil puts the blanket down and sits on the arm of the sofa. Far away from Dan, he notices. “What?”

“You heard me, I’m calling this rule bullshit. Would you honestly consider ignoring the love of your life because there might be one year too much between you? What if they were only six years younger than you but you really loved them? Would you let them go because of a stupid rule like that?” Dan asks.

Phil crosses his arms defensively. “Okay, firstly, we’re apart ten years. Ten years, Dan! I was done with elementary school when you were born. Think about how much ten years are. It’s more than half of your lifetime. You’re not even twenty. Eighteen. You’re still a teenager and I’ve been an adult for years already. That’s such a big difference.”

Dan now regrets not telling Phil that he is actually twenty four. He would never believe him now and only accuse him of faking an ID to get it on with Phil. He should have told him when he had the chance and explain it with having a baby face or whatever.

“That’s not only your choice to decide!” Dan blurts out angrily before he can stop himself. He knows it’s just the demons trying to make Phil dislike him, but he can’t help it.

Phil groans in annoyance and stands up. “And secondly, I don’t even love you!”

Dan stops and shuts his mouth. His heart clenches painfully and the void in his chest seems to spread into his limbs. He doesn’t even bother to stop the tears that are welling up in his eyes.

Phil seems to see them too and jumps up from the couch. “Hey, no, no. Dan! Don’t cry. You know how I meant it.”

“No, I don’t,” Dan snaps and stands up as well.

“In a romantic way, of course! And besides, we haven’t even known each other long enough to develop these kinds of feelings. Or can you honestly say you love me? Do you know what that means? Love?”

“Yes, I do, but-“ Dan gasps for air and tries to think. There’s thick fog in his mind that keeps him from thinking straight. “No, I don’t love you yet! Of course not. But apparently you’re not even giving it a chance!” he yells in anger.

“Why would I, when it’s against my rules?” Phil retorts.

Dan throws his hands up and moans in frustration. “Why are you even giving yourself rules for relationships?”

“Because I want to fall in love properly and not just jump from one useless crush to another all my life,” Phil says. It’s obvious he tries to reason with Dan.

“So I’m not lovable because I’m young?” Dan asks.

“That’s not what I said.”

“But I’m not lovable to you because I’m young?” he continues. With every word from Phil he feels his hope descend into darkness just a bit more.

“I- no. Dan, you’re trying to make me the bad guy here,” Phil sighs. “It’s not like you’re perfect either. You want me to open up but you don’t even do that yourself!”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks angrily.

“Every time we talk, I can see that you’re avoiding something. You think too long about what you’re telling me about yourself. Something is up with you and you’re clearly not ready to let me know about it. That’s fine. I don’t care. But don’t go around telling me that it’s all my fault!”

Dan takes a seat and pulls his knees to his chest. He tries to keep himself together, he always has to, because life isn’t fair and it would ruin him if he let it. He wants nothing more than to keep Phil by his side and if he were to tell him about the darkest side of his life, he is certain Phil would leave. He can’t have that.

“Dan, talk to me. Please. It’s fine. We’ll talk about it,” Phil says quietly and sits down beside him. He lifts a hand but stops in mid-air, seemingly not knowing whether it would be okay to touch him right now.

He sighs when he doesn’t get an answer and pulls Dan into an embrace. He’s holding him tightly and Dan feels like he’s being shielded from the world and all the bad things that could try to harm him. Sadly, everything that can really get to him is already inside him and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

“Dan, you are lovable. I can imagine myself loving you. Very much so indeed,” he mumbles into Dan’s hair. “That’s why I don’t want you to flirt with me or get too close to me. You’re cute and funny and everything I ever wanted in someone; and we have so much in common. We get along great although we’ve only known each other for a bit over a month now.”

They remain silent after that and Dan desperately tries to fight back the dark void that seems to suck all life out of him from inside his chest. It’s a painful process that wastes too much energy for Dan to function properly anymore. He sinks against Phil and avoids any form of conversation by burying his face in his shoulder. Phil is all around him, which is comforting and scary at the same time. While it calms Dan down enough to think about the past ten minutes, it keeps his body busy with nerves. That’s the thing about love and crushes; they keep you alive while slowly killing you. Or that is at least how Dan would describe it.

“I care about you a lot, you know?” Phil suddenly whispers.

Dan nudges his forehead against his shoulder to let Phil know to continue.

“There are moments when you just click with someone and you instantly get along. I wouldn’t have invited you for coffee if that hadn’t been the case.”

Dan snorts against Phil’s shirt. “I literally only yelled at you and accused you of spilling coffee on me.”

“Yes,” Phil admits; a smile can be heard in his voice, “but you were right with that. And you tried to apologize right away. You actually looked like it hurt you to yell at me. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if you had a bipolar disorder or something like that.” They fall into silence once more, until Phil speaks up again. “Which would be okay, you know? If you have any problems or anything you want to or need to talk about… I’m here.”

Dan nods slightly and blinks back more tears. Phil thinks he’s mentally ill. While he might have a certain problem of demons inhabiting the place where his soul is supposed to be, he does consider himself sane and mentally healthy. At least healthy enough for others to not notice. Apparently, he failed at that.

Dan tries to pull himself together and chuckles sarcastically. “I can’t believe I just got friend-zoned.”

Phil freezes and then giggles. “I can’t believe I friend-zoned someone.”

“Congratulations, you dick,” Dan mumbles with a small smile in his voice. It’s all he can manage, but it’s something.

“I’m not a dick!” Phil complains and pinches Dan’s shoulder. At that, Dan has to honestly laugh a little. The weight on him is lifted a bit and smiling feels a little lighter.

~~~

It’s been weeks and Phil somehow managed to convince Dan to come to one of Phil’s friend’s house parties. Even though everything in Dan revolts at the thought of meeting new people, the prospect of alcohol and a probably intoxicated Phil sounds too good to turn down. He knows it’s an awful idea to try getting it on with Phil while he’s drunk, but what other chance does he have? Phil himself admitted that Dan would by his type and that he could imagine loving Dan. The only problem standing between them are the stupid rules Phil set for himself. Since alcohol usually lowers one’s inhibitions, Dan assumes this is the perfect opportunity.

It’s not like he will take advantage of Phil, he tells himself. Only a bit of making out and maybe a sloppy hand job in a corner, like he has done it many times before in clubs. His entire inner monologue probably isn’t the best attitude to approach an evening like that. Dan knows that, yet he can’t bring himself to care. He is desperate after weeks of inconspicuous flirting and innocent friendly touches. And if all else fails, he’s just going to let out his sexual frustration with a stranger.

So, after a twenty minute pep-talk to work himself up to a party mood, he is standing in front of PJ’s – that’s the name of Phil’s friend, if Dan remembered correctly – apartment. There is music buzzing through the door and people singing and talking. Not an atmosphere Dan would usually encounter. He prefers deafening beats and screaming strangers that allow him to vanish in the crowd until he chooses to change that. In here, people try to get to know each other and get along, have a fun time. Dan is not made for fun times. He’s made for dirty moments in dark streets and lonely nights.

He hesitantly raises his hand to knock. The door swings open only seconds after that and a tipsy guy leans in the doorframe. “Heyo!”

“Uhm, PJ?” Dan questions, hoping to see Phil walk past behind the guy.

“Ohhh! You’re looking for Peej,” the guy mumbles and turns around, hollering “OI, PEEJ! Get your ass over here! This mate here is looking for you!”

Dan fights back an embarrassed blush and clears his throat. “Thanks,” he says and pushes through the door.

A brown-haired, tall guy with curls flying all over the place approaches him curiously. “You’re looking for me?”

Dan silently begs the ground to swallow him whole. “Actually, I just wanted to know if I’m at the right address. Phil invited me.”

PJ grins and wraps his arm around Dan’s shoulders. He hates how every other guy seems to be taller than him, even though he would not consider himself small.

“You have to be a bit more specific; Phil invites a lot of people to these parties. Some form of revenge, I think. The more people are coming, the more cleaning I have to do the next day. It sucks. He doesn’t have to come to my parties, you know? It’s not like I’m forcing him. But he insists that if he has to help with organizations he’s coming and will invite people too. Whatever, right?” PJ rambles.

Dan’s heart sinks. He thought Phil really wanted him to be here because they are friends. Not because he’s taking revenge on another friend of his.

“Daaaan,” an exaggerated and mildly slurred voice shouts. He turns towards Phil, who is lying horizontally over an armchair in the corner of a room. There is a bottle of Malibu next to him on the floor and if Phil drank all of what’s missing by himself, it’s no wonder he is sounding like that already.

“Oh! You are Dan!” PJ exclaims happily and pulls Dan even more into the embrace. “He’s been talking about you lots! I’m scared you’re gonna take my best friend.”

Dan stares at him dumbfounded. “He talks about me?”

“Yeah! ‘Dan here’, ‘Dan there’… it would annoy me if it wasn’t so cute,” PJ almost sings and pushes Dan towards the group of people that surrounds the armchair. He feels like he has been put into the spotlight. Some look at him with curiosity, others ignore him and continue chatting and drinking.

“I told him to not get drunk already or he’ll sober up when everyone else is starting to have fun, but whatever,” PJ says and pats Dan’s back. “Booze is in the kitchen, bathroom is there, toilet there,” he adds and points vaguely to the other side of the room. With that he’s gone and Dan is standing awkwardly next to a more than slightly tipsy Phil.

“I’m so glad you could make it,” Phil slurs and tips his head back to look at Dan. “I thought you ditched me.”

Dan smiles a bit at that and sits on the floor next to Phil’s chair. “Never.”

“Good!” Phil states and reaches for the bottle. Dan should really let him drink more so he’ll have an easier time later tonight. Then why is he taking the bottle from Phil now?

“I think you’ve had enough for now, alright?”

“Nooo,” Phil whines and makes grabby hands towards Dan. “You’re no fun.”

Dan takes a big sip of the drink himself and sets the bottle down far enough from Phil. “You’ll thank me tomorrow when your head doesn’t feel like it’s being split open. You’re very welcome.”

Phil huffs and throws his arms over the side of his chair. “And what now?”

“Well, how would I know? You’re the one who does this regularly,” Dan reasons and leans against the chair so Phil’s fingers are brushing his hair.

“Hmm…” Phil muses and cards his hand through Dan’s perfectly straightened hair. “It’s soft.”

Dan turns his head up a bit. “My hair?”

“Mhm.” Phil stares at it like it’s a puzzle he’s trying to solve. “I swear it was curly when I met you.”

“It was. I straighten it on most days,” he answers. The fingers running through his hair are slightly distracting, but he’s keeping it together.

“How boring. You look a lot better with your hobbit hair,” Phil says quietly and tugs on a strand.

“I don’t have hobbit hair!” Dan swats his hand away and sits up to look at him. “And does that mean I’m ugly when it’s straight?”

Phil grins and ruffles Dan’s hair before pushing it into a quiff. “Nah, you’re always hot. Just a bit more with curls.”

Dan is not blushing at that. He’s a grown man and he is definitely not blushing, thank you very much. His cheeks only happen to appear slightly pink from some angles if you looked closely.

“Did you bring alcohol?” Phil questions without hesitation.

“Uhm, no?”

“Why not? You’re eighteen. I’ve never seen a young adult not drown himself in alcohol as soon as he’s off age,” Phil slurs and rubs his eyes.

Maybe that’s because I’m way past the age of eighteen, Dan thinks and just shrugs in response.

“You’re so weird,” Phil states. “I like it.”

Dan sits cross-legged and hums in approval. “Thanks, I like you too.”

“I said I liked IT, not you!” Phil exclaims and pushes himself up, stopping in the middle of the movement. “I mean, I do like you, but that’s not what I said.” With that he stands up on wobbly legs and offers a hand to Dan. “Come on, I’ll show you around. Introduce you to some of my friends. You should meet new people.”

Dan takes his hand hesitantly and pouts. “Do I have to? I don’t like socialising.”

Phil nods eagerly and puts an arm around Dan’s shoulders. “Yes, you do! It seems like I’m your only friend.”

“How would you know?” Dan huffs, slightly annoyed.

“Well, maybe ‘cause you’re constantly asking me to do something with you,” Phil responds and giggles. “You’re so clingy.”

Even though his voice is telling Dan that it’s a joke, he winces like he has been stabbed. It’s true, he is clingy. Maybe that’s because he really doesn’t know many people apart from Phil. The main reason is, however, that his only friend is Phil. He has a few acquaintances, he even met with Louise once or twice and he usually talks to her when he is waiting for Phil for one of their lunch meet-ups. They’re all nothing compared to Phil, though.

“Danny, I’m sorry!” Phil whines and pushes his weight into Dan. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset,” Dan exclaims and crosses his arms.

Phil leans closer towards Dan. He’s wearing this adorable frown that makes Dan’s stomach jump. “You are.”

Dan sighs. There is really no use in arguing with a tipsy Phil. “Fine, whatever. I’m clingy, you’re sorry. What about meeting some people now?”

“Okay, okay,” Phil mumbles and looks around the room, apparently trying to find someone for Dan to meet. “Oh, there’s Louise!” he suddenly says and pulls Dan to the side. They stumble a bit and when Dan looks up he sees Louise in a pretty, light pink dress with heart-dotted tights underneath and it’s probably the most colourful outfit he’s ever seen her wear. At work she usually dresses in more neutral shades. Now that he thinks about it, even Phil stepped it up a bit and is wearing an even quirkier outfit than normally. His short-sleeved button-up is littered with tiny foxes and as every so often his colourful, mismatching socks are peeking out from beneath his black skinny jeans. Compared to them, Dan feels obnoxiously dull in his all-black outfit. It’s usually his go-to choice since he can identify with black nothingness, but at this party it’s like he’s the black sheep of the herd. Literally.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it,” Phil more or less sings before turning.

“Wait, you’re leaving me alone?” Dan asks in a panicked voice. This is not how this was supposed to go down. They’re meant to talk and get closer.

Phil stops in his tracks and seems to think about it. “No, I’m leaving you with Louise. Just be yourself and everybody will love you!”

With that, Phil is gone and Dan has no choice but to turn around and listen to Louise’s story about her awful boss. Definitely not how he planned this night.

It’s in the middle of a conversation with Louise and a friend of hers when Dan can’t help but look over at Phil. He’s standing there, slightly slouched over the backrest of the arm chair he has been sitting in when Dan arrived. His hair is sticking up in some odd places and Dan wants to go and smooth it down. Phil laughs at a joke the guy he’s talking to makes. Like every so often, he hides his smile behind his hand. Dan loves that smile. It’s a bit lopsided and resembles more of a smirk, but it’s adorable and so absolutely Phil-like, it’s incredible. Phil listens attentively and says something from time to time. Once more, Dan realizes what a considerate and kind person Phil is. He’s always giving others the feeling of being taken seriously.

At this point, Dan doesn’t even care anymore that Phil is his soul mirror and that there’s some form of obligation behind getting together. He doesn’t care anymore that he needs Phil to regain parts of his humanity. Sometimes he forgets about these things and he just wants to be with Phil for the sake of getting to spend time together. He wants to listen to Phil’s funny stories of various animal attacks or his interactions with Janice the cashier in the shop down his road. And he really wants to tell Phil about himself. He wants to sit on the couch and just rant about his misery and maybe some good parts of his life. He wants Phil to point out the good aspects of Dan’s failures. He wants them to discuss unimportant topics like they’re politics and he wants them to talk about politics like it’s the weather. Because Phil is the kind of person who you can have these kinds of conversations with. And Dan wants to be the only one who gets to have Phil. It’s just a wish and some hope for now, but Dan is trying and he’ll be damned to let this opportunity slip out of his hand. He won’t let Phil get off this easily now that Dan found someone like him after years of fruitless search.

Dan is pulled out of his thoughts when the guy Phil is talking to reaches out and touches his arm. Dan would do nothing but grit his teeth if it looked like a normal, friendly gesture. But the way the stranger is leaning in and invading Phil’s space makes Dan feel sick to the stomach. His demons start cackling in delight and he just wants to rip them out of his chest right at this moment.

Phil giggles and blushes at something the guy says. He looks down in a very fake shy manner that’s really unlike him, then looks back up and brushes his gentle fingers over the guy’s jaw. That’s when Dan wants to storm over and rip the stranger apart for touching his Phil. Just when he’s taking a step towards them, he remembers: Phil is not his. Phil rejected him, basically chained him to the friend zone.

He is angry, so angry. His insides are boiling and there is this numb, yet sizzling burn in his limbs he usually gets before he forces his energy through objects. Dan clenches his fists and breathes, deep and slow to get control over himself.

Even if Phil is not his yet and probably won’t be for quite a while, he wants to protect him. For that he needs to be calm and talk sense into Phil. He’s tipsy, so Dan can argue that going with a stranger is probably not the smartest idea. But who’s he kidding? Phil has sobered up enough already not to make any dumb decisions.

Apparently, Phil thinks so too, as he lets the stranger pull him towards an emptier part of the apartment. And Dan can do nothing but watch and wish it was him. He sees Phil disappear around the corner and he thinks back to all the times he vanished around corners after saying goodbye. The times when Dan was trying to find him and Phil was constantly going missing as soon as he reached another crossing, another end of a street. Those times, now that he thinks back, were so much easier. He could run after him and grab his arm and yell at him to stop. He would know that the next day they’d meet up again and the vanishing at the corner had no bad side effects whatsoever.

Right now, Dan can only watch and hold back tears. It’s probably only a one night stand, but it hurts nonetheless. Phil would rather sleep with a stranger than with Dan. He’s spending time with someone else, forgetting about him. He feels abandoned, lonely and cold. With every breath the tiny fragments of hope he had collected over the past months are dissolving like sugar in hot tea.

“Dan?”

He snaps out of it and turns towards the voice. Louise looks at him with concern lacing her next sentence. “Are you alright? You look a little pale.”

He hastily pushes his drink into her hand. “I think I’m just gonna go for a smoke.” It’s awful; he can’t even lie and tell her he’s fine. He’s really not, though.

Since Dan doesn’t really want to leave the party yet, in case Phil changes his mind halfway through snogging the other guy, he throws open the window in the kitchen, which is thankfully almost empty, and leans out. He digs through his pockets in the hope of finding a left-over cigarette. Now that he thinks about it, he realizes he hasn’t bought any recently. He didn’t even miss the calm smoking usually brings. Dan snorts. Hm, I wonder why that is, he thinks.

Just about then he finds a very crinkled and old looking one in the back pocket of his jeans. It’s not like he has any other options, he figures and lights it clumsily. There is a slight tremble in his limbs and Dan would rather not think about the reason for that.

The first drag is disgusting. He’s not sure whether that’s because it has been in his pocket for god knows how long or because he hasn’t smoked in a long time. Whatever it is, he has to get over it. He puts it to his lips once more, inhales, feels the burning smoke fill his lungs and… no satisfaction. He should feel it immediately. That’s how it has always been. Smoking and coffee and knocking over people and running away; it all usually works. But coffee is now inescapably connected with thoughts of Phil and he would frown at Dan if he knocked over people on purpose. Smoking was his last escape and it seems as if this doesn’t work anymore either. Running away is not an option, not this time.

Dan takes a drag once more, a long one that leaves him breathless. Honestly, it’s not a problem, considering he does not have a need to breathe to stay alive; but people would probably stare if he stopped breathing.

The smoke is accumulating in his lungs as he inhales over and over, not taking a break. He has to feel the relief it is supposed to bring him. But there’s no use. It shrinks away in his fingers, glowing red and eventually fading when there’s nothing but the stump with the filter left. Dan chucks it out of the window angrily and runs his hands through his hair. He lets out a huff, big grey clouds escaping his mouth. He follows the trail of smoke with his eyes, through the window and into the dark night sky.

After three breaths it’s all gone and Dan feels nothing. Well, at least nothing of the relief he so desperately needs. There’s this tingling in his ears and an unpleasant sensation in his stomach. Not something he wants to experience now, in the apartment of a stranger with many people and his only friend gone hooking up somewhere in a corner.

His fingers run through his hair again, making it stick up in odd angles in the process. Dan doesn’t care. He’s trying to find something, anything to focus on and fight the oncoming panic attack. Should he leave? Should he stay? Ask someone for help? Try to hide and wait until it’s over?

Dan doesn’t even realize that he grips the window frame hard enough to bend it. He can already hear the demons cackle in the distance.

His eyes are burning slightly and that’s when he knows he’s fucked. With a jolt he’s bending forward, the mind-numbing pain shooting into his stomach and chest and limbs, making him unable to move. His demons are full-on shrieking. Everything starts to hurt and he panics. He feels like dying. Dan doesn’t want to die. Not now, not here and certainly not after finally finding Phil. But he doesn’t seem to have a choice.

Someone in the distance is asking him if he’s okay. He doesn’t respond. He yelps and sinks to his knees right where he is. The ringing in his ears grows louder until the concerned voice fades and he’s all alone, even in an apartment stuffed with other people.

He tries to take a breath to calm down, like he used to do when he still had normal panic attacks, but there’s no air. He gasps and opens his mouth and there’s nothing there to inhale. The floor in front of him is blurring and the pain intensifies even more. Suddenly his stomach is tying itself into knots and no, Dan will not throw up in the kitchen of a stranger.

He staggers up and tries to watch out where he’s going, though his hazy mind is currently occupied with keeping him alive, so he has a hard time manoeuvring himself to the toilet. Another jolt of pain that shoots through his chest and pierces his heart makes him stumble just as he reaches the door. He throws himself inside just in time and empties everything that has been in his stomach into the bowl. The door crashes shut and he’s there, lonely on the cold floor, writhing in pain. The shrieking hasn’t stopped either but it has been put to the corner of his mind for now, as Dan is currently trying not to die. He is so, so incredibly scared; he doesn’t know what to do. It’s going on and on, the pain, the throwing up, the burning, the shrieking, and he just wants it to end.

He heaves once more and tries to gulp down what’s trying to force itself up his throat but as it turns out on his next gagging, there’s nothing left to spit into the toilet. With a shaky sigh he leans his forehead on the seat. It’s a dejá vu – no matter what he tries, he always ends up here. Once more, he wishes for someone to come in and help him get up. He thinks about how he always wants someone to maybe stroke his sweaty hair back and rub his arm to reassure him that everything is going to be fine. Dan honestly wants to believe that he’s going to be okay. But it has been a long time since he is has been fine and he knows now that it’s never going to change.

At the next stabbing pain, there’s also a hand on his back. Dan’s head shoots up, which is a bad idea, because everything starts to tilt in front of his eyes for a moment before he can focus on black hair and pale skin and confused blue eyes that meet his own. He stares incredulously at Phil and whimpers pathetically in the back of his sore throat.

Phil seems to collect himself and reaches out to push Dan’s hair into a lopsided quiff. “Hey there, party boy,” he mumbles softly. Dan realizes Phil is kneeling right in front of him, close enough to touch. He reaches out for his hand and Phil takes it.

Dan blinks in confusion and wants to answer. He really does, but there’s the pain again, crawling into his bones and making him whine loudly. His head sinks back down to the toilet seat and he curls in on himself, trying to protect his hurting body.

“Dan!” Phil yelps helplessly and strokes his hand over Dan’s back soothingly. “What’s going on?”

He just shakes his head and whimpers, concentrating on the warm hand that’s offering the tiniest bit of comfort.

“I’m going to go-“

“No!” Dan yells and surges forward to grip Phil’s hand when he stands up.

Phil freezes half standing, half kneeling and stares at Dan, slightly frightened.

“Please, don’t go,” Dan whispers hoarsely. All logic seems to have left him. “Don’t make me deal with this on my own,” he pleads. There are so many unspoken words behind this one sentence and he can only hope that Phil can read at least a few of them.

Apparently he can, because he sits down again and rubs his thumb over the back of Dan’s hand. “I’m just going to get you some water and something for your stomach. You had too much to drink.”

“I- I didn’t…” Dan stumbles over his words. His mind is foggy, although the shrieking has faded at some point. “I didn’t drink. I don’t-… just… don’t go.”

“Dan,” Phil tries to reason with him, “it’s okay, happens to everybody once in a while. But let me help you. I’ll be gone for only a few minutes. Be reasonable.”

But Dan can’t be reasonable. Whenever Phil leaves him something terrible happens. Dan is sure, if Phil leaves now he’s going to die. He is still so scared of the recent panic attack, he’s scared it might come back even worse than before and really finish him this time.

“Don’t…” he starts but Phil is already moving away.

“Just a minute. You need something so you won’t throw up again and some water,” Phil says.

Dan reaches out, uselessly. The panic is creeping in the moment Phil’s touch is gone. Suddenly, there are tears in his eyes and on his cheeks, angry ones and sad ones and he can’t even decide which ones are more.

“I don’t need fucking water! I need you to be here and hold me and keep me safe!” Dan screams and bangs his fist against the wall, making one of the tiles shatter. He knows he is being too loud, that people outside will hear. He’s also aware of the burning in his eyes that alerts him of the colour shift. He can feel his irises burn red and black. There’s a frightened look on Phil’s face that confirms his assumption.

Dan’s face falls at the realization and he wraps his arms around himself protectively. He hides in the crook of his elbow and tries to shrink. Maybe if he asks the ground kindly enough it will swallow him whole. “I’m sorry I’m such a broken mess,” he whispers against his drawn-up knees.

“Maybe you’re a mess, but you’re not broken. Don’t say that.” Some shuffling and then two warm arms wrapped around Dan, helping him keeping himself together. “And it’s okay to be a mess, life is hard.”

They’re silent for a moment while Dan is trying to comprehend what’s happening.

“Just so you know: I want an explanation for this later,” Phil adds.

Dan nods quickly and shoves his face further into its hideout between his knees. His body is trembling slightly but Phil is warm and steady and he holds him tight enough that Dan for once doesn’t feel like he’s on the edge of falling apart.

“Can we cuddle?” Dan asks timidly.

Phil chuckles. “We’re in a bathroom at a party full of drinking people. I don’t think that’s a smart idea.”

“Oh, I thought you’d decline because I scared the shit out of you, but you’re having a point here.” He blinks a few times, making sure his eyes feel normal again, before looking up at Phil. He’s met with a slightly nervous but nonetheless caring look.

“What happened to your hook-up?” Dan asks.

At that Phil blushes furiously and avoids eye contact. “He wasn’t really a hook-up. I mean, we didn’t get to do anything before Louise came crashing into the room,” he admits.

Dan raises an eye brow questioningly.

“Because of your breakdown,” he adds. Phil’s gaze wanders towards the smashed wall tile. “Or whatever this was.”

Dan sighs. “Maybe you were right and I am keeping some secrets from you,” he admits quietly.

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed,” Phil jokes.

Dan studies his smiling face and their positions. Close enough to feel each other’s breath on their faces. He frowns at Phil. “Sometimes I’m really worried about you, you know?”

“Me?!” Phil asks incredulously.

“Yes, you!” Dan says. “No matter how weird I am and how abnormal things get, you sit here and fucking hug me. That’s not normal behaviour, Phil. You were supposed to freak out and run away screaming.”

Phil loosens his hold on him slightly. “So, you want me to leave or…?”

“No!” Dan exclaims and throws his arms around Phil’s neck. He doesn’t care anymore if he seems desperate. He shuffles closer to him, with his legs over Phil’s and presses his face into his collar bone. “Don’t you dare.”

His arms wrap around Dan’s torso and pulls him closer so they’re touching almost everywhere. “I don’t think you’ll be able to chase me away now. And I’m still curious about the eye thing and how you managed to shatter a tile with your bare fist.”

Dan giggles nervously. “I think we should discuss this somewhere else.”

Phil nods, but remains motionless where he is. They sit there, heartbeats slowly calming down after the stress of the situation.

“I don’t want to get up yet,” Dan says and traces a finger over the collar of Phil’s shirt.

“Well, too bad! Get your asses out of there. Some people need to pee,” an annoyed voice yells from behind the door.

“Preferably not into one my house plants’ pots,” PJ adds helpfully.

Dan groans and feels his cheeks heat up. “Is this what they call the walk of shame?”

“I think that’s after you had sex,” Phil says. He pushes Dan back a bit. “We really should get up, though.”

They stand up awkwardly in the small space that’s available next to the toilet. Phil thankfully turns his back, so Dan has time to flush the toilet quickly.

When they open the door, a red-faced guy shoves them to the side and rushes into the room. PJ is standing next to them with a glass of water, which he passes to Dan. He accepts it in thanks and gulps it down greedily while Phil explains that he’ll bring Dan home.

“Oh, and he tried to stand up and slipped. He might have broken a tile,” Phil says. Not the best excuse, but PJ seems to buy it.

“Oh my god, Dan. Are you okay?” he asks in concern.

Dan nods and rubs some spot on his head. “Yeah, just. I’m sorry about your wall.”

PJ nods, obviously not entirely sure if he’s really okay. “It’s fine! God, Phil, please make him see a doctor. He could have a concussion.”

“I will,” he promises and puts an arm around Dan, making it seem like he can’t walk on his own yet. “We’ll go now.”

PJ waves at them with the empty glass in his hand. “Get home safe.”

They make it almost all the way to the door when someone stops them. “Phil, heyyy.” It’s the guy who Phil was trying to hook up with. He studies them and frowns. “Are you leaving?”

Phil grins awkwardly and nods. “Uhm, yeah. Dan doesn’t feel well, so I’m taking him home.”

Dan looks the guy up and down. Brown hair, tall, dark brown eyes. He’s dressed in more colourful clothes, but other than that, Dan can’t help but notice that they have quite a few things in common.

“I see…” the young man answers, slightly put off. “Then I’ll just give you my number and we can continue where we were before someone interrupted us so rudely,” he says with a wink. Dan wants to gag.

Phil shuffles from one foot to the other. “Thanks, but uhm… I’m not really looking for something serious right now.”

“Oh, me neither,” the man practically beams at him. “Just a little fun, you know. I was really excited for that sexy butt of yours.”

Now, Dan really has had enough. “Okay, first of all, Phil is more than a sexy butt, got it?” he snaps. The man’s attention is now on him, his eyes comically wide. “And secondly, if you’re trying to flirt, do it properly. ‘I was excited for that sexy butt of yours’? Ugh, get some better hook-up lines. Just google some, it’s not that hard.”

The man nods in confusion.

Dan huffs and pulls Phil out the front door. As soon as it’s closed behind them he turns and shows his middle finger to the door as if it could pass the gesture on to the asshole behind it.

When he turns back to Phil, there’s an amused smirk on his face. “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just cute when you’re jealous,” he muses and starts walking down the stairs of the building.

Dan follows him and crosses his arms. “I’m not jealous.”

“Mhm,” Phil hums.

They step outside. The fresh air cools down Dan’s temper a bit and ruffles his hair. “Maybe I am a bit jealous, so what?”

“It’s just… it’s making things a lot harder for me,” Phil admits and curls his hand around Dan’s wrist. “Where do you live?”

Dan starts walking into the direction of his apartment. “What do you mean?”

“Hm?”

“What do you mean, I’m making things harder for you?” Dan asks again. He grins mischievously. “Am I supposed to take that literal?”

Phil groans and punches him in the arm lightly. “Dan!”

“Okay, okay. Sorry,” he says quickly.

Phil sighs. “Look, you’re cute enough already. I don’t need you to be all jealous and sweet.”

Dan frowns. “I don’t get it.”

There’s a pale blushing covering Phil’s cheeks. He coughs once, twice, trying to buy himself some time. “I might have a thing for people getting possessive over me.”

He nods in understanding. “Okay, but what’s so bad about this? It’s not like you’re interested in me.”

“Dan, I’ve told you before that you’re exactly my type,” Phil groans.

Dan thinks back to the time they kissed at his apartment. He did say Dan was everything he ever wanted in a partner.

“But you refused to even try being with me,” he reminds him and looks down.

“Yeah, because-“

“-of your stupid rules, I know,” Dan finishes his sentence. They keep walking until Dan realizes. Things are going to get out anyway. There will be no secrets left in the next few hours.

He moves his hand so he’s properly holding Phil’s and stops in the middle of the pavement.

“What if I told you that I’m actually within your required age gap?” he asks.

Phil turns around. He looks him up and down, tries to see something he hasn’t seen before. Eventually he shakes his head. “What?”

Dan gulps and tightens his grip on Phil’s hand. He hasn’t been this scared of rejection in a long time. “What if I told you that I’m actually 24?”

There’s an awful silence between them. Those few seconds tear Dan up inside.

Phil finally blinks and comes out of his trance. His eyes fly over Dan’s body again. He’s painfully aware that he barely looks 18, yet he expects Phil to believe his real age.

Their eyes meet and Phil frowns. “I really want to believe you, because just half an hour ago your eyes suddenly changed colour and you punched a tile into pieces.”

There’s a silent ‘but’ hanging heavily in the air between them. Dan’s mind runs a thousand miles.

“I can prove it,” he whispers, remembering his real passport at home. “Come home with me.”

“Dan, having sex can’t prove-“

“No, no! That’s not what I was trying to do,” Dan says quickly. At least not until Phil believes him. “I have my real passport at home. And I’ll explain everything to you. I’ll show you.” Maybe he sounds a bit desperate in his attempts to get Phil to believe him.

“Okay, okay. I’m coming,” Phil finally says and laces their fingers together.

After that, their journey home is a blur for Dan. He remembers dragging Phil along hurriedly and almost falling down a flight of stairs in is crazed state of mind. He can’t seem to throw open the door to his dark apartment fast enough. Just about then he remembers why he hasn’t let Phil come over yet.

The light he turned on flickers a bit and there’s this puddle next to the door that doesn’t seem to dry up, even when it hasn’t rained in days. It smells old and mouldy and he wonders how he manages to sleep here.

“I’m sorry this is such a mess,” he apologizes and runs his hands over the seats of the sofa, trying to brush off any dust and other dirt. When he deems it clean enough, he gestures for Phil to sit.

As soon as he does that, Dan runs to his bedroom. In a cardboard box in the old wardrobe he finds all his documents. His heart is hammering. There are also some pictures in there he doesn’t want to look at, but they could help convince Phil.

When he comes back to the living room area, he finds Phil looking around. His expression isn’t one of disgust. If Dan had to describe it, he’d say it’s somewhere between sadness and pity.

He clears his throat to get Phil’s attention. “Here,” he says and puts the box down between them as he takes a seat opposite of Phil. The sofa protests with a loud creak that doesn’t sound very promising.

Phil lifts the lid and opens it. There are multiple fake ID’s, collected over the years. Phil takes them out and investigates them. They’re all the same, except for the year of birth. Dan has to get a new one every year to match his looks with the age written on them.

He looks up at Dan and puts them down next to the box. Next he picks up a passport, a bit worn and outdated. He flips it open and reads through Dan’s information.

“James?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

Dan shrugs. “It’s tradition in my family that the first-born son gets his father’s name as his second.”

Phil nods and puts it down to go through the contents of the box. He takes a few pictures out of it and leans against the back of the couch. “Is that your family?”

The first one is from a family gathering when Dan was still small. He nods. Phil flips through them until he reaches the last one. It’s the last one that has been taken of Dan and his brother before he left for university. There’s a time stamp in the top right corner, featuring a date of six years ago. He knows he looks exactly the same as back then, when he was 18.

This seems to set Phil off a bit, as he looks up at Dan quizzically, compares him to the Dan on the six-year-old picture and seems to find Dan hasn’t changed since then.

“So, you don’t age?” he asks in confusion and puts the pictures back into the box, followed by Dan’s ID’s.

“Yeah, that’s part of it,” Dan sighs.

“Part of what?”

They make eye contact for a second, before Phil puts the box on the floor and scoots closer.

Another heavy sigh leaves Dan. “I know it sounds cliché when I say it’s hard to explain, but it really is hard to explain.”

Phil nods and rests his head on the back of the sofa. “I’ve got time.”

“I don’t even know where to start.” Dan rubs his eyes tiredly and lets his eyes wander across the room. “Basically, I am something like a demon?” It sounds more like a question than a statement, but if he’s being honest then he doesn’t even know for sure what he is and what’s wrong with him.

“A demon?”

Dan looks over at Phil. “This is ridiculous,” he groans and throws his hands up. “I don’t even know what’s up with me, okay? All I know is that at some point I was fucked up bad enough for my soul to shatter and some creatures just nestled in the hole in my chest. And now I’m some monster that doesn’t age and doesn’t live or die and… and…” Dan breathes heavily. “If I knew what’s up I might be able to do something!”

Phil sits there silently and stares at him. This is confusing, so Dan understands his helpless expression.

“Okay, slow down,” Phil manages to get out. “If you don’t know what’s going on, then how do you know what happened in the first place?”

Dan avoids his eyes and fiddles with his fingers. At some point during their friendship he seems to have picked up this habit from Phil. “They talk to me sometimes.”

“Who does?”

“The demons.”

Phil nods, then shakes his head. “I thought you are the demon?”

“No, not really,” he starts. “There are demons in me, I guess. And that makes me something like a demon too, right?”

He raises his hands in defence. “How would I know? All I can say, is that you seem very human to me. Maybe a human with some supernatural abilities.”

Dan sinks into the flat cushions of the sofa. “I imagined this to be easier.”

“Why don’t you just tell me what happened? Maybe I can understand it,” Phil offers. He leans forward a bit and takes Dan’s hand. His smile is gentle and patient. Gosh, how did Dan manage to not scare him off yet.

“Okay, okay, yeah. That’s a plan,” he mumbles and sits up straighter. He then goes on to tell Phil about how this misery started. How he lost all sense of real life and belief in himself and existence. How he let go of everything he had and would have achieved. He retells how there was this feeling, at some point, of complete nothingness in his chest. One that he thought was a feeling of depression and loneliness, when really it was just the place where once his soul had resided. But then it started to feel different. Not empty. He tells Phil about the time he threw his dorm mate against a wall with this newly found power and his flight from everyone who witnessed it. As far as Dan is aware, he didn’t harm that guy too badly, but there had been others in the room who saw. He talks about how he went home, told his family he dropped out of university and wanted to restart his life.

“After that, I just left. I moved to London, because they told me I had to find someone,” Dan ends his monologue.

Phil, who has been sitting there and listened quietly, perks up. “Who told you?”

“The demons. They… I don’t know. They taunt me and laugh about my misfortunes and one day they said that I’d never find my soul mirror in a tiny village like Reading. I think sometimes they just don’t consider that their comments are actually really helpful for me. So I moved to London. It’s also easier to get hired for some illicit work in a big city like this.”

“What exactly is a soul mirror?” Phil asks. “Sounds a bit like something out of a fantasy romance novel,” he giggles and Dan can’t help but smile at that. It is a ridiculous name after all.

“I’m not even sure. From what I’ve gathered over the years, it’s a person who’s able to help me get back my soul. Or build a new one. I’m not too sure about this. All I know is, that this person makes me normal again,” Dan admits.

Phil watches him closely. “And you think that I’m yours?”

Dan nods and runs his hand through his hair. It’s a curly mess by now, but he’ll deal with this later. “I know you are.”

“How?”

He freezes at that and looks over to Phil. “Because…” Dan stops, thinks for a moment. He wants to get this right. “Because when I spend time with you I don’t feel haunted. I don’t feel like there’s something terrible and scary inside me when I’m with you or even when I just talk to you on the phone. Somehow, you always pull me out of my misery and you’re there. You make me smile and make me want to try being a better person. You make my anxiety and my bad thoughts go away because you are a ray of sunshine,” Dan blushes at that. Gosh, he is such an embarrassing sap. “And… and… I don’t feel alone. I don’t feel lonely, which is something I haven’t experienced in a while. You make me laugh at the worst jokes ever-“

“They’re not that bad!”

Dan chuckles. “Yes they are. But it doesn’t matter, because they’re like you: a bit weird and a bit funny. And I honestly really, really love them.” He looks up, realizing he’s been caught up in his thoughts too much to watch out for what he’s saying.

Phil doesn’t break their eye contact. “You love my jokes?”

“I do.” He feels like they’re not only talking about Phil’s awful puns anymore.

Phil moves a little closer so that their knees are touching. “I’m still confused about this whole thing, but I think they like you back.”

Dan’s heart stops at that and he doesn’t bother to make it beat again. “They do?”

Phil’s hand is over his, fingers linking with his. “Mhm. Maybe they have started liking you back a while ago but told themselves off because of some stupid rules.”

“Can we drop this horrible metaphor?” Dan asks, cringing.

Phil laughs loudly at that, with his head thrown back. It’s that smile when he forgets to hide it behind his hand and Dan’s chest feels warm at the sight.

“Yes, yes, please!” Phil giggles and grins at Dan. “I still have so many questions.”

“Okay, but can we make out first like in a cheesy romantic movie?” Dan asks with a smile.

He doesn’t waste any time before he’s crashing into Phil not even half a second after he nods in agreement. Their lips fit together perfectly and although it’s an awkward kiss with their teeth clacking together once or twice, it’s so much like them that Dan can’t help but feel euphoric. His hands fly to Phil’s hair, while Phil’s arms wrap around Dan and pull him close. They don’t deepen the kiss, don’t try to go any further. Simply having Phil like this, finally, makes Dan’s heart start galloping in his chest.

The demons, that have been eerily quiet the whole time, are full-on shrieking now. Dan ignores them, but pulls back from Phil nonetheless. They lock eyes and Dan places his hands on either side of Phil’s face, his thumbs grazing his slightly rosy cheekbones.

“It seems we’re doing something right. They’re howling in agony,” he whispers.

He expects this to ruin the mood. Phil, however, smiles and tightens his grip. “Good. They’ve tormented you long enough.” A quick peck is placed on Dan’s nose. “Now, I want my questions answered.”

“Yes sir,” Dan fake salutes and kisses Phil’s cheek. He can’t get enough of this adorable blush. “Ask away.”

Phil looks at the ceiling while thinking about his first question. “What’s different than being human?”

Dan’s face falls slightly as he tries to summarize everything in his head. “Basically, I’m not alive, but I’m also not dead.”

“How does that work?”

“Well,” Dan starts. He pushes Phil back and gets comfortable, settled between his legs and head on Phil’s shoulder. “I don’t have a heartbeat and I’m not breathing most of the time when I’m alone.”

“Wait, what?” Phil asks. His hand flies to Dan’s chest where his heart is currently thumping against his chest.

“Okay, right now it’s beating,” Dan corrects himself. “It can beat when I make it. I can control it. Sometimes I just let it work for a bit to make sure it would still function properly when I get human again. Same with my breath.”

Phil looks at him weirdly. “So, how do you survive then? Are you a zombie?”

Dan shakes his head. “No, not really. I don’t understand this all too well, either. I have never been told what’s happening. I can only tell you what I experience.” He frowns. “How do characters of fantasy novels know everything about themselves?”

“Because the author just lets them know?” Phil suggests.

He tilts his head up. “That makes sense.” He raises his hand and places it on Phil’s chest. “Why can’t I be the character of a book? Then I would know exactly what to do. I don’t have any idea how to do this, even though I’ve got you now.” Dan’s eyes widen. “We are together now, right?” he asks in a panicked voice.

Phil giggles and hides his nose in Dan’s hair. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Your idiot?”

“Yes, my idiot,” Phil agrees. He runs his hands up Dan’s back. “All mine.”

Dan melts at the addition. At least he’s not the only embarrassing sap.

“So… you were saying?” Phil prompts.

“Right. No breathing or heartbeat, still walking around though for some reason. I don’t need to eat either. I’m not sure about drinking. Sometimes I get thirsty, sometimes I go a week without water. I guess that depends on my mood or whatever,” Dan says, trying to think of more things to explain his life. “You already know I have a weird power where my eyes glow. I think that’s when my demons have the most control. It usually happens before or during a panic attack.”

Phil’s grip tightens around him. “You have panic attacks?”

“Sometimes,” he admits. “But they’re different than human panic attacks. When I had some before this all happened, I used to hyperventilate and sometimes black out from anxiety. Nowadays, it’s so much worse.”

Phil nudges Dan’s chin up so they’re looking at each other. “Worse than a normal panic attack?”

Dan nods. “Usually when you have one you feel like you’re dying. You get scared and your breathing gets too fast and you get sweaty and cold or hot and it’s awful. But now when it happens there are demons and they shriek the whole time and it hurts.” He gulps and shivers at the memory. “It hurts so much because there is no breath or heartbeat that can pick up. It’s nothing but mind-numbing pain and agony and- and-“ His voice breaks and he presses his face into the crook of Phil’s neck. “It’s so scary because I’m all alone and I feel like dying but I can’t die, I know that. So I’m more scared about what would happen if I died for real. I don’t want to find out.”

There are warm hands on him, one rubbing his back comfortingly and the other at the back of his neck. They hold him until his violent shaking fades into a slight tremor.

“Is that what happened at the party?”

Dan nods.

“It’s over now. You’re safe,” Phil mumbles into his ear. Dan used to hate it when someone did that. With Phil it feels just like another way of expressing that he’s here, close to Dan.

“I don’t know if I’m safe,” Dan denies. “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. Is there some ritual I have to do? Is it just going to happen overnight now that I’m with you?”

Phil shrugs. “I don’t know.”

The demons snicker evilly.

“Oh shut up, will you?” Dan blurts out.

You shut up. There’s no use.

“What?” Phil asks in confusion.

“Not you, sorry.” Dan lies down in defeat. “Obviously they’re still there.”

He’s not gonna be here long enough. He’s gonna leave. You’re pathetic. Miserable. No one wants you.

“I know,” he whispers back.

“Dan, what are they saying?”

“You’re not going to stay.”

Phil sits up, making Dan go with him in the process. “That’s not true and you know it.”

“But they-“

“They are wrong. They know it too. Why else would they tell you I’m not going to stay with you?” Phil asks. “Have they ever said anything to encourage an action?”

“No?” Dan sounds insecure.

“Then what if they try to make you believe I’m going to leave because that’s what they want?” Phil nudges Dan. “Maybe you’re not going to magically turn into a normal human again. You said it took you a long time to become what you are now. What if it will also take some time for you to return to your old self?”

Dan considers this. It sounds logical.

“Maybe I’m not there to make it better. You turned into this on your own as well. It could be that you have to do this by yourself,” Phil adds.

“But why did I need you in the first place?” Dan says, doubtfully.

“Obviously because you need someone to have your back and encourage you,” Phil says. He holds Dan’s face between his hands. “Or have you ever heard of someone with any mental illness get back on their feet without some support?”

Dan shakes his head.

“But like everyone else who goes through depression or other psychological problems, you’ll have to try and get better and seek help,” he reminds Dan.

They sit like that for a moment, Dan contemplating his options. Something comes to his mind. “Phil?”

“Yes?”

“Mental illnesses never cease. It gets better, but never goes away.”

Now that his doubts are out in the open, he feels even more vulnerable. He feels small and needs Phil to hold him closer. His legs wrap around Phil’s waist and his fingers curl around the collar of his shirt.

“It’s enough if it gets better. There’s no limit to how much better it gets,” Phil says gently. He kisses Dan’s temple. “Don’t give up before we tried.”

Dan nods slightly. “I can’t believe I’m so quiet and pliant right now. I’m supposed to be strong and tough,” he huffs in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Phil pushes Dan back slightly to frown at him. “What? Since when?”

“I always am!” Dan protests and hits Phil’s chest.

“Not with me, no,” he argues and pulls Dan into a kiss. “You’re a sappy softy.”

“Ugh, you wish!” Dan groans and fights Phil off.

Phil giggles, his tongue poking out at the corner of his mouth.

“And stop that tongue thing! It’s too adorable, I can’t handle this,” he exclaims and pokes his cheek. “You know what. That’s enough for today. I’m going to bed.” He stands up after fighting to get out of Phil’s grasp.

He’s not even out of the room when he realizes Phil isn’t following him.

“You coming, or what?” he asks, turning around.

Phil sits on the sofa with a goofy grin on his face. He stands up and makes his way over to Dan. His hands find their way onto Dan’s hips. “No one’s ever told me that my tongue thing is adorable.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “You know what I meant.”

“Yeah, but still. No one has ever said that to me.” Something about Phil’s tone makes Dan look at him inquiringly.

“Has someone made fun of you for it?”

Phil leans forward to kiss a line across his jaw. “Maybe once or twice.”

Dan grits his teeth. “I really want to punch them.”

Phil chuckles at that and bites his lip. “And you said you weren’t a big softy.”

He hits Phil’s chest in mock offence. “Punching someone isn’t soft.”

“But the reason because you want to do it is,” Phil says. He lets go of Dan and walks past him into the dark bedroom.

Dan doesn’t bother to turn on a light. The less Phil sees of this room the better.

He hears something that sounds an awful lot like a piece of clothing hit the floor. With some hesitance he removes his own shirt and, after some thinking, his skinny jeans. He crawls into bed and is soon met with warm skin against his chest. A pleasant shiver runs down his spine as he pushes Phil onto his back and cuddles into his side. He never considered himself the smaller or submissive side of a relationship, but feeling protected and warm is definitely worth it.

Phil’s arm pulls Dan the tiniest bit closer and holds him tightly.

Dan looks at Phil in the very dim light of passing cars that sometimes fills the room. They’re quiet, not sleeping, but not fully awake anymore. He has no idea what time it is or what will happen in the morning or the next week or the next year, but he is certain that with Phil he might be able to not fear what is to come.

“I really, really like you,” he whispers.

Phil hums quietly. “I really, really like you too.”

“You were supposed to be asleep already.”

“And miss you being adorable? Not a chance,” Phil answers and turns to the side.

Their lips meet once again and Dan feels a little wave of warmth flood his chest. He sighs into the darkness. “Do you really think there’s hope for me?”

Phil shrugs and presses his lips to Dan’s forehead. “Maybe. It’s all up to you.”

“I’ll need your help.”

“Well, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

Dan smiles a little.

“I know.”

 

~~~~

 

Epilogue

 

A year later, Dan, currently cuddled into Phil and still panting from their recent activities, stares at the ceiling and pokes Phil’s side.

“Hm?” Phil hums quietly and strokes a strand of curly, sweaty hair out of Dan’s eyes.

“Do you think there’s hope for me?” Dan asks. He has asked this many times before and Phil usually refuses to answer anything but ‘maybe’.

Phil knew that, although he did not manage to magically turn Dan human again, there was progress. At first they’d been baby steps, tiny things Dan tried to change. They were right with their assumption. It took a lot of time to recover from having demons take over your body. Eventually though, with the presence of Phil as his companion on this admittedly hard journey back to humanity, he’d managed to get better slowly but surely.

And now he looks at Dan, his Dan, and sees the few hairs of stubble on his jawline that haven’t been there last year. He sees the tiniest bit of light behind Dan’s eyes and he can feel his heart hammering even in situations when he used to cut it off. He thinks of the last panic attack that consisted of hyperventilating and blacking out from anxiety. He thinks about the times when he caught Dan smiling at mirror with a whispered ‘you’re all weak and I can defeat you’.

So this time Phil smiles and says, “Yes, I know there’s hope.”

And he means every word.


End file.
